1^ 


IM-  "9-  •  /^/^-^ 


RICHARD  AND  THE   BISHOPS 


Copyright,    1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


COLLEGI 
LIBRARY 


PR. 

THE  /\  Z 

TRAGEDY   OF   KING   RICHARD   HI.   l^.o 


Preface. 

The  Editions.  TJie  Tragedy  of  King  Richard  the 
Third  was  first  printed  in  1597,  with  the  following  title- 
page  :— "  The  Tragedy  of  |  King  Richard  the  Third.  | 
Containing,  |  His  treacherous  Plots  against  his  brother 
Clarence :  |  the  pittief  uU  murther  of  his  innocent 
nephewes :  |  his  tyrannicall  vsnrpation :  with  the  whole 
course  |  of  his  detested  life,  and  most  deserved  death.  [ 
As  it  hath  been  lately  Acted  by  the  |  Right  honourable  the 
Lord  Chamber-  I  laine  his  servants.  |  at  London  |  Printed 
by  Valentine  Sims,  for  Andrew  Wise,  \  dwelling  in  Paules 
Churchyard,  at  the  |  Sign  of  the  Angell.  |  1597.  |  " 

This  edition,  known  as  Quarto  i,  was  reprinted  more 
or  less  correctly  in  subsequent  Quartos  issued  in  the  years 
1598  (Quarto^ 2),  1602  (Quarto  3),  1605  (Quarto  4), 
1612  (Quarto  5),  1622  (Quarto  6),  1629  (Quarto  7), 
1634  (Quarto  8)  ;  each  of  these  issues  followed  its  imme- 
diate predecessor,  except  in  the  case  of  the  161 2  edition, 
which  was  printed  from  the  Quarto  of  1602  :  in  the  second 
and  subsequent  Quartos  the  name  of  the  author  (By  Wil- 
liam Shakespeare)  was  added. 

The  First  and  Second  Folios  give  the  title  of  the  play  as 
follows : — 

"  The  Tragedy  of  Richard  the  Third  :  with  the  Landing 
of  Earle  Richmond,  and  the  Battell  at  Bosworth  Field." 

The  Text.  The  textual  problems  connected  with 
Richard  the  Third  are  of  a  complicated  nature,  owifig  to 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

the  many  differences  between  the  Quarto  version  and  that 
of  the  Foho.  The  main  differences  may  be  grouped  under 
the  following  heads: — (i)  The  Folio  contains  nearly  200 
lines  which  are  not  found  in  the  Quarto,*  while  the 
Quarto  contains  at  least  one  notable  passage  not  found 
in  the  Folio  (IV.  ii.  103-120)  ;  (2)  it  gives  alterations  of 
the  Quarto,  which  could  not  have  been  intended  by  Shake- 
speare;* (3)  in  a  great  many  cases  it  removes  (a)  gross 
and  obvious  metrical  defects,!  (b)  imaginary  metrical  ir- 
regularities of  the  Quarto;!  (4) it  introduces  a  number  of 
alterations  to  avoid  repeating  the  same  word;§  (5)  it 
often    modifies    ''  certain    terms    of   phrase    and    use    of 

*F/xr.;— 1.  ii.  16,  25,  155-167;  iii.  116,  167-169;  iv.  36,  37,  69-72, 
113,  114,  216,  260-263,  267,  269;  II.  i.  67;  ii.  89-100,  123-140;  III.  i. 
172-174;  iii.  7,  8,  15;  iv.  104-107;  V.  7,  103-105;  vii.  5,  6,  37,  98,  99, 
120,  127,  144-153,  202,  245;  IV.  i.  2-6,  37,  98-104;  iv.  20,  21,  28,  32. 
53»  103,  159,  172,  179,  221-234,  276,  277,  288-342,  400;  V\  iii.  27. 
28,  43. 
*E.g.  '  Unmannered    dog,    standst    tJwu    zvJien    I    command'    (I. 

ii.  39). 
'  Or  let  me  die,  to  look  on  earth  no  more'  (II.  iv.  65). 

'\ E.g.  'And  when  my  uncle  told  me  so  he  zvcpt, 

And  pitied  me,  and  kindly  kissed  my  cheek ; 
Bade  me  rely  on  him  as  on  my  father'    (II.  ii. 
23-25)- 
Cp.  the  Quarto  version  :-^ 

'  And  when  he  told  me  so,  he  wept 

And  hugg'd  me  in  his  arm,  and  kindly  kiss'd  my 

cheek 
And  bade  me  rely  on  him  as  on  my  father.' 
%E.g.  '1  do  remember  me,  Henry  tJie  Sixth,'  instead  of  'As  I 
remember,  Henry  the  Sixth'  (IV.  ii.  98)  ;  (i.e.,  Henery  the  Sixth). 
§E.g.  '  Methought  that  Gloucester  stumbled;  and  in  stumbling 
(Folios,  falling) 
Struck  me,  that  thought  to  stay  him,  overboard'   (I.  iv. 

18.) 
'  By    heaven    my    heart    (Folios    soul)    is   purged    from 
^  grudging  hate 

And  with  my  hand  I  seal  my  true  heart's  love'  (II.  i.  9). 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Preface 

words,"  which  had  evidently  become  obsolete,  e.g.  zvhich 
is  changed  to  that ;  bctzcixt  to  betzveen  ;  thou  zvcrt  to  thoit 
zuast;  yea  to  /  (aye)  ;  uioe  to  more,  or  other;  yon  to  thou  ; 
(6)  there  are  besides  certain  minute  verbal  changes  in 
the  Folio,  the  reason  for  which  is  not  so  clear  as  in  the 
previous  cases,  but  probably  in  most  instances  they  are 
due  to  euphony;*  (7)  the  stage-directions  in  the  Folio 
are  fuller  and  more  accurate  than  those  in  the  Quarto. 

Which  is  the  best  Authority  ?  Critics  are  divided  on 
this  point,  some  championing  the  cause  of  the  Quartos, 
others  of  the  Folios ;  the  chief  representatives  of  the 
former  party  are  the  Cambridge  Editors ;  of  the  latter 
James  Spedding,  Delius,  Daniel,  etc. 

(i.)  According  to  the  Cambridge  Editors,  some  such 
schicme  as  the  following  will  best  account  for  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  text : — 

Ai  A2 

I  1^ 

Bi  B3 

I  I 

Q.  F. 

Where  Ai  is  the  Author's  original  MS.;  Bi  a  transcript 
by  another  hand  with  some  accidental  omissions  and,  of 
course,  slips  of  the  pen.  From  this  transcript  was  printed 
the  Quarto  of  1597,  while  A2  is  the  Author's  original  MS. 
revised  by  himself,  with  corrections  and  additions,  inter- 
linear, marginal,  and  on  inserted  leaves ;  B2  a  copy  of  this 
revised  MS.,  made  by  another  hand,  probably  after  the 
death  of  the  Author,  and  perhaps  a  very  short  time  before 
1623.  From  B2  the  Folio  text  was  printed ;  the  writer  of 
B-'  had  perhaps  occasionally  recourse  to  the  Quarto  of 
i6o2  to  supplement  passages  which,  by  its  being  frayed  or 

'"^  E.g.  'To  bring  (Folios,  hear)  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  King' 
(IV.  iii.  22.) 
'The    imperial    metal    circling    nozv    thy    brow'     (Folios, 
head);  (IV.  iv.  382). 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

stained,  had  become  illegible  in  A2  (v.  page  x.,  Camb. 
ed.). 

"  Assuming  the  truth  of  this  hypothesis,"  the  Cam- 
bridge Editors  conclude,  "  the  object  of  an  editor  must  be 
to  give  in  the  text  as  near  an  approximation  as  possible 
to  A2,  rejecting  from  Fi  all  that  is  due  to  the  unknown 
writer  of  B2  and  supplying  its  place  from  Qi,  which, 
errors  of  pen  and  press  apart,  certainly  came  from  the 
l:and  of  Shakespeare.  In  the  construction  of  our  text 
we  have  steadily  borne  this  principle  in  mind,  only  de- 
viating from  it  in  a  few  instances  where  we  have  retained 
the  expanded  version  of  the  Folio  in  preference  to  the 
briefer  version  of  the  Quarto,  even  when  we  incline  to 
think  that  the  earlier  form  is  more  terse,  and  therefore  not 
likely  to  have  been  altered  by  its  author.  .  .  .  Cceteris 
paribus,  zee  have  adopted  the  reading  of  the    Quarto." 

(ii.)  James  Spedding,  in  an  exhaustive  essay  on  the 
subject,"^  contested  this  view,  maintaining  "  that  the  text 
of  the  Folio  (errors  being  corrected  or  allowed  for)  rep- 
resents the  result  of  Shakespeare's  own  latest  version, 
and  approaches  nearest  to  the  form  in  which  he  wished 
it  to  stand,"  that  the  First  Quarto  was  printed  without 
preparation  for  the  press  or  superintendence  by  himself, 
and  that  he  began  to  prepare  a  corrected  and  amended 
copy,  but  had  not  leisure  to  complete  this  new  version,  f 

Delius  anticipated  Spedding  in  his  inquiry, J  and  came 
to  an  even  more  determined  conclusion  as  regards  the 
superiority  of  the  Folio ;  according  to  him  a  nameless 
corrector  had  tampered  with  the  original  MS.  before  it 
went  to  the  printer  in  1597,  while  the  true  text  appears  in 
the  Folio  version. 

Mr.  Daniel  (Facsimile  Reprint  of  Quarto  i)  is  also  in 
favour  of  the  Folio  "  as  the  basis  of  the  text " ;    after  a 

*  On  the  corrected  edition  of  Richard  III.,  pp.  1-75,  New  Shake- 
spere  Society's  Transactions,  1875-6. 

■f  Ibid.  V.  p.  190,  where  Spedding  summed  up  his  views,  after 
considering  Mr.  Pickersgill's  objections  (pp.  77-124). 

Xv.  German  Shakespeare  Society's  Year  Book,  Vol.  VII. 

4 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Preface 

careful  analysis  of  the  early  Quartos  he  comes  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  Folio  version  was  printed  from  a  copy 
of  Quarto  6,  altered  ''  in  accordance  with  the  theatrical 
MS.  which  the  transcriber  had  before  him." 

(iii.)  Surveying  all  the  evidence,  the  present  writer 
thinks  it  possible  to  take  a  somewhat  neutral  position; 
the  partisanship  of  the  two  schools  seems  too  determined 
in  its  devotion  to  the  one  text  or  the  other.  Whatever 
may  be  the  history  of  the  First  Quarto  it  certainly  goes 
back  to  the  author's  MS.,  probably  abridged  for  acting 
purposes ;  but  on  the  whole  it  is  a  careless  piece  of  print- 
ing ;  whatever  may  be  the  history  of  the  First  Folio  ver- 
sion, one  can  certainly  trace  in  it  the  touch  of  a  hand  other 
than  Shakespeare's ;  *  the  editor  did  his  work  with  insuf- 
ficient caution,  though  comparatively  few  changes  for  the 
worse  are  intentionally  his ;  he  probably  had  a  Third.or 
Sixth  Quarto  collated  with  an  unabridged  AIS.,  ordering 
an  untrustworthy  assistant  to  correct  the  printed  copy, 
and  to  add  the  omitted  passages ;  subsequently  he  prob- 
ably read  through  the  whole,  amending  here  and  there, 
and  not  troubling  to  consult  the  MS.  too  often.  Hence 
the  genuineness  of  most  of  the  added  passages,  and  the 
doubtful  character  of  so  many  of  the  smaller  changes. 

The  Date  of  Composition.  Authorities  are  agreed  in 
assigning  Richard  III.  to  1594  or  thereabouts,  relying 
mainly  on  the  internal  evidence  of  style,  especially  the 
manifest  influence  of  Marlowe ;  in  considering  this  infl.u- 
ence  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  play  belongs 
naturally  to  the  group  of  history  plays  dealing  with  the 

*  E.g.        'My  Lady  Grey,  his  zvife,  Clarence,  'tis  she 

That  tempts  him  to  this  harsh  extremity'  (I.  i.  64). 

Q.  I.'  That  tempers  Jiim  to  this  extremity.' 

Q.  2/  That  tempts  him  to  this  extremity.' 

Q.  3. '  That  temps  him  to  tJiis  extremity.' 
Spedding  held  there  is  nothing  to  choose  between  the  two  lines, 
but  there  seems  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  the  Folio 
and  Quarto  reading. 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

House  of  York,  and  links  itself  intimately  to  2  Henry  VL, 
and  3  Henry  VI,  Noteworthy  Marlowan  characteristics 
are  the  following: — (a)  Richard,' like  Tami3erlaine,  or 
Faustus,  or  Barabas,  monopolises  the  whole  action  of  the 
Drama;  {h)  the  characters  of  this  play  of  passion  seem 
intended,  for  the  most  part,  merely  to  set  off  the  hero's 
"  ideal  villainy  "  :  (c)  the  absence  of  evolution  of  charac- 
ter in  the  hero;  {d)  the  hero's  consciousness  and  avowal 
of  his  villainy;  {e)  the  tone  of  the  play  is  often  lyrical 
or  epical  rather  than  dramatic  (e.g.,  the  lamentation  of 
the  women,  II.  ii.;  IV.  i.);  (0  blank  verse  is  used 
throughout,  while  prose  and  the  lyrical  forms  found  in 
the  earlier  plays  are  conspicuously  absent.  The  play  of 
Richard  III.  was  evidently  Shakespeare's  experiment — 
his  only  experiment — in  the  Marlowan  method  of  tragedy, 
but  in  one  respect,  at  least,  Shakespeare  shows  himself 
no  blind  follower  of  IMarlowe ;  he  weaves  Nemesis  into 
the  play  and  shows  its  consummation  in  Richard's  fall, 
hence  the  significance  of  Margaret's  fateful  presence, 
haunting  the  scenes  like  some  prophetic  Chorus  of  ancient 
Drama. 

In  John  Weever's  Epigranimes,  printed  in  1599,  but 
written  in  1595,  the  22nd  Epigram,  addressed  Ad  Guliel- 
iniun  Shakespeare,  mention  is  made  of  Romeo  and  Rich- 
ard as  well-known  characters,  and  the  reference  is  evi- 
dently to  Richard  HI.,  and  not  to  Richard  //.^'  Possibly, 
too,  the  wooing  of  Estrild  in  the  old  play  of  Locrine  is 
imitated,  as  Mr.  Fleay  {Shakespeare  Alanual)  has  sug- 
gested, from  Richard  HI.,  I.  ii. ;  Locrine  was  first  printed 
in  1595- 

The  Source  of  the  Plot.       Sir  Thomas  More's  Life  of 

Rkhardjhe  Third,  incorporated  by  Hall  Rr  Holinshed  in 

their  histories,  isjhe  ultimate  source  of  the  plav.     Shake- 

speare  evidently  used  the  second  editinn   of  Holinshed, 

""copymg^a  mistake  which_occurs  only  in  that  edition.    The 

"^^  Romeo,  Richard;  more,  ivhose  names  I  knozv  not." 

6 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Preface 


wooing  of  Queen  Anne,  as  well  as  Queen  Margaret's 
part,  are,  however,  purely  imaginary  (cp.  Courtenav's 
Commentaries  on  the  Historical  Plays,  11.  60-117). 

Possibly  Shakespeare  borrowed  a  few  hints  from  an 
ea.rlier  pl'ay  written  before  1588,  and  published  in  1594, 
entitled— '^  The  True  Tragedie  of  Richard  the  Third/'"^ 
To  Dr.  Legge's  Latin  play  (acted  at  Cambridge  before 
1583)  he  certainly  owed  nothing. 

There  were 'several  other  plays  on  this  subject,  probably 


Interior  of  the  Great  Council  Room  on  the  upper  storey  of  the  V\  nite  i  uwer. 
From  an  engraving  by  Fairholt. 

*  Reprinted  by  Shakespeare  Society,  1844,  from  the  only  perfect 
ccpyextant.— iV.i?.— In  the  old  play  we  find  "A  horse,  a  horse,  a 
fresh  horse,"  also,  Richard's  reference  to  the  ghosts  of  his  victims 
"  crying  for  revenge."  The  same  Society  printed  Richard's  Vi- 
sion, a  seventeenth  century  poem  founded  on  Shakespeare's  play, 
containing  an  interesting  reference  thereto. 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

one,  wholly  or  in  part,  by  Ben  Jonson  (vide  Henslowe's 
Diary,  22nd  June,  1602),  called  Richard  Crookhack,  and 
another,  now  lost,  perhaps  more  intimately  connected  with 
Shakespeare's. 

Duration  of  Action.  The  time  of  Richard  III.,  as 
analysed  by  Mr.  Daniel  {Neiv  Shakespeare  SocietyTrans., 
1877-79),  covers  eleven  days  represented  on  the  stage; 
with  intervals.  The  total  dramatic  time  is  probably  within 
one  month. 

Day  I,  Act  I.  Sc.  i.,  ii.  Interval.  Day  2^  Act  I.  Sc.  iii., 
iv. ;  Act  II.  Sc.  i.,  ii.  Day  3,  Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  Interval;  for 
the  journey  to  Ludlow.  Da^  4,  Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  Day  5, 
Act  III.  Sc.  i.  Day  6,  Act.  III.  Sc.  ii.-vii.  Day  7,  Act  IV. 
Sc.  i.  Day  8,  Act.  IV.  Sc.  ii.-v.  Interval;  Richard's 
march  to  Salisbury.  Day  9,  Act  V.  Sc.  i.  Interval;  Ricli- 
ard's  march  from  Salisbury  to  Leicester.  Day  10,  Act  V. 
Sc.  ii.,  and  first  half  of  Sc.  iii.  Day  11,  Act  V.,  second 
half  of  Sc.  iii.,  and  Sc.  iv.,  v. 

The  historic  time  is  from  about  the  date  of  Henry  VI. 's 
obsequies,  May  1471,  to  the  Battle  of  Bosworth  Field, 
22nd  August,  1485. 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I.  Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  resolves  to  obtain  the 
crown  of  England,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  is 
not  in  the  direct  line  of  succession.  He  aims  a  secret 
blow  against  his  brother  Clarence,  who  is  involved  by 
him  in  a  quarrel  with  their  brother,  King  Edward  IV., 
and  immured  in  the  Tower,  where  he  is  shortly  after- 
w^ards  murdered.  Gloucester  next  seeks  to  strengthen 
his  cause  by  suing  for  the  hand  of  Lady  Anne,  w^hich  he 
wins  in  the  very  presence  of  the  corpse  of  her  father-in- 
law,  Henry  VI.,  dead  at  his  hands,  and  despite  the  fact 
that  her  husband  had  also  been  slain  by  him. 

II.  King  Edward,  in  declining  health,  seeks  to  foster 
peace  in  his  realm.  He  dies,  and  his  young  son  Edward, 
Prince  of  Wales,  is  summoned  to  London  to  be  crowned. 
Before  he  arrives,  Gloucester,  who  is  made  lord  pro- 
tector, finds  means  to  weaken  the  prince  by  imprisoning 
and  afterwards  executing  three  noblemen  of  the  latter's 
party. 

III.  Richard  meets  the  prince  and  his  younger 
brother  in  London,  and  under  pretext  of  assigning  them 
a  lodging  imprisons  them  in  the  Tower.  Lord  Hastings, 
a  powerful  nobleman,  faithful  to  the  royal  line,  is  be- 
headed, also  by  Richard's  orders.  The  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham upholds  Gloucester,  and  is  largely  instrumental 
in  obtaining  for  him  the  coveted  crown. 

IV.  Buckingham,  how^ever,  hesitates  when  the  new 
King  Richard  III.  desires  at  his  hands  the  lives  of  the 
two  princes;   and  he  is  further  disaffected  by  the  king's 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

refusal  to  grant  him  a  certain  earldom  previously  prom- 
ised as  a  reward  for  his  support.  He  accordingly  for- 
sakes Richard  and  seeks  to  unite  his  strength  with  that 
of  Henry,  Earl  of  Richmond,  who  is  taking  up  arms 
against  the  usurping  monarch.  Buckingham  is  taken 
prisoner  and  soon  afterwards  put  to  death.  The  two 
boy  princes  are  assassinated  in  the  Tower;  and  Queen 
Anne  is  secretly  put  to  death  in  order  to  leave  Richard 
free  for  an  alliance  with  the  heiress  of  York,  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  Edward  IV.,  for  whose  hand  he  sues  to  her 
mother.  ♦ 

V.  In  the  meantime  Richmond  has  invaded  England 
and  encounters  Richard's  forces  at  Bosworth  Field  in 
Leicestershire.  The  king,  though  disquieted  on  the  pre- 
ceding night  by  visions  of  his  many  slain  victims,  fights 
desperately;  but  his  forces  are  defeated  and  he  himself 
is  slain  by  Richmond.  The  victor  is  recognized  as  King 
Henry  VIL,  and  by  marriage  with  Elizabeth  of  York 
brings  to  a  close  the  long  contention  between  the  rival 
houses  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

II. 

Character  of  Richard. 

The  character  of  Richard  the  Third,  which  had  been 
opened  in  so  masterly  a  manner  in  the  Concluding  Part 
of  Henry  the  Sixth,  is,  in  this  play,  developed  in  all  its 
horrible  grandeur.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  picture  of  a  de- 
moniacal incarnation,  moulding  the  passions  and  foibles 
of  mankind,  with  superhuman  precision,  to  its  own  in- 
iquitous purposes.  Of  this  isolated  and  peculiar  state  of 
being  Richard  himself  seems  sensible  when  he  declares — 

"  I  have  no  brother,  I  am  like  no  brother : 
And  this  word  love,  which  greybeards  call  divine, 
Be  resident  in  men  like  one  another, 
And  not  in  me;  I  am  myself  alone." 

10 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Comments 

From  a  delineation  like  this  Alilton  must  have  caught 
many  of  "the  most  striking  features  of  his  Satanic  por- 
trait. The  same  union  of  unmitigated  depravity  and 
consummate  intellectual  energy  characterizes  both,  and 
renders  what  would  otherwise  be  loathsome  and  disgust- 
ing an  object  of  sublimity  and  shuddering  admiration. 

The  task,  however,  which  Shakespeare  undertook  was, 
in  one  instance,  more  arduous  than  that  which  Milton 
subsequently  attempted;  for,  in  addition  to  the  hateful 
constitution  of  Richard's  moral  character,  he  had  to  con- 
tend also  against  the  prejudices  arising  from  personal 
deformity,  from  a  figure 

"  curtail'd  of  its  fair  proportion, 
Cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  nature, 
Deform'd,  unfinish'd.  sent  before  its  time 
Into  this  breathing  world,  scarce  half  made  up." 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  these  striking  personal  defects,  which 
were  considered,  also,  as  indicatory  of  the  depravity  and 
wickedness  of  his  nature,  the  Poet  has  contrived, 
through  the  medium  of  high  mental  endowments,  not 
only  to  obviate  disgust,  but  to  excite  extraordinary  ad- 
miration. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  and  detestable  vices,  in- 
deed, in  Richard's  character,  his  hypocrisy,  connected,  as 
it  always  is,  in  his  person,  with  the  most  profound  skill 
and  dissimulation,  has,  owang  to  the  various  parts  which 
it  induces  him  to  assume,  most  materially  contributed 
to  the  popularity  of  this  play,  both  on  the  stage  and  in 
the  closet.     He  is  one  who  can 

"  frame  his  face  to  all  occasions," 

and  accordingly  appears,  during  the  course  of  his  career, 
under  the  contrasted  forms  of  a  subject  and  a  monarch, 
a  politician  and  a  wit,  a  soldier  and  a  suitor,  a  sinner  and 
a  saint ;  and  in  all  with  such  apparent  ease  and  fidelity 
to  nature,  that  while  to  the  explorer  of  the  human  mind 
he  affords,  by  his  penetration  and  address,  a  subject  of 
peculiar  interest  and  delight,  he  offers  to  the  practised 

II 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

performer  a  study  well  calculated  to  call  forth  his  fullest 
and  finest  exertions. 

Drake  :  Shakespeare  and  his  Times. 


Richard  is  the  very  personation  of  confidence  in  self- 
conduct  and  self-control,  in  his  absolute  command  of 
every  form  of  dissimulation,  and  still  more  difficult,  of 
simulation.  He  is  arrogant  no  less,  on  the  strength  of 
his  superiority  to  any  natural  stirrings  of  love  or  pity,  of 
terror  or  remorse.  Like  lago  he  believes  in  the  absolute 
sway  of  will-wielded  intellect  to  subject  and  mould  pas- 
sion to  its  own  determinations,  while  both  are,  uncon- 
sciously to  themselves,  overmastered  and  enslaved  by  a 
tyrannous  passion  that  ever  keeps  out  of  their  own  sight 
as  if  lurking-  and  shifting  place  behind  them.  Richard's 
true  fall  and  punishment  is  his  humiliation  on  his  point 
of  reliance  and  pride;  he  comes  to  require  friends  when 
friends  fail  in  heart  or  in  heartiness,  he  regrets  affection, 
would  fain  be  pitied,  admits  terror,  and  believes  in  the 
power  of  conscience  if  he  endeavours  to  defy  it.  The  in- 
voluntary forces  of  his  being  rise  in  insurrection  against 
the  oppression  of  the  voluntary.  His  human  nature  vin- 
dicates the  tendencies  of  humanity,  when  the  organism 
which  was  strained  to  sustain  itself  on  the  principle  of 
renunciation  of  sympathy  falters  and  breaks  down.  The 
power  of  the  strongest  will  has  its  limitations;  mere  de- 
fiance will  not  free  the  mind  from  superstition,  and  mere 
brutality  cannot  absolutely  close  up  the  welling  springs 
of  tenderness. 

Lloyd:  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

III. 

Shakespeare  Self=Proiected  in  Richard. 

Into  this  character  Shakespeare  transforms  himself  in 
imagination.  It  is  the  mark  of  the  dramatic  poet  to  be 
always  able  to  get  out  of  his  own  skin  and  into  another's. 

12 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Comments 

But  in  later  times  some  of  the  greatest  dramatists  have 
shrunk  shuddering  from  the  out-and-out  criminal,  as 
being  too  remote  from  them.  For  example,  Goethe. 
His  wrong-doers  are  only  weaklings,  like  Weislingen 
or  Clavigo ;  even  his  Mephistopheles  is  not  really  evil. 
Shakespeare,  on  the  other  hand,  made  the  effort  to  feel 
like  Richard.  How  did  he  set  about  it?  Exactly  as  we 
do  when  we  strive  to  understand  another  personality; 
for  example,  Shakespeare  himself.  He  imagines  himself 
into  him;  that  is  to  say,  he  projects  his  mind  into  the 
other's  body  and  lives  in  it  for  the  time  being.  The  ques- 
tion the  poet  has  to  answer  is  always  this:  How  should 
I  feel  and  act  if  I  were  a  prince,  a  woman,  a  conqueror, 
an  outcast,  and  so  forth? 

Shakespeare  takes,  as  his  point  of  departure,  the  ig- 
nominy inflicted  by  Nature;  Richard  is  one  of  Nature's 
victims.  How  can  Shakespeare  feel  with  him  here — 
Shakespeare,  to  whom  deformity  of  body  was  unknown, 
and  who  had  been  immoderately  favoured  by  Nature? 
But  he,  too,  had  long  endured  humiliation,  and  had  lived 
under  mean  conditions  which  afforded  no  scope  either 
to  his  will  or  to  his  talents.  Poverty  is  itself  a  deformity; 
and  the  condition  of  an  actor  was  a  blemish  like  a  hump 
on  his  back.  Thus  he  is  in  a  position  to  enter  with  ease 
into  the  feelings  of  one  of  Nature's  victims.  He  has 
simply  to  give  free  course  to  all  the  moods  in  his  own 
mind  w^hich  have  been  evoked  by  personal  humiliation, 
and  to  let  them  ferment  and  run  riot. 

Next  comes  the  consciousness  of  superiority  in  Rich- 
ard, and  the  lust  of  power  which  springs  from  it.  Shake- 
speare cannot  have  lacked  the  consciousness  of  his  per- 
sonal superiority,  and,  like  every  man  of  genius,  he  must 
have  had  the  lust  of  power  in  his  soul,  at  least  as  a  rudi- 
mentary organ.  Ambitious  he  must  assuredly  have 
been,  though  not  after  the  fashion  of  the  actors  and 
dramatists  of  our  day.  Their  mere  jugglery  passes  for 
art,  while  his  art  was  regarded  by  the  great  majority  as 
mere  jugglery.    His  artistic  self-esteem  received  a  check 

13 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

in  its  growth;  but  none  the  less  there  was  ambition  be- 
hind the  tenacity  of  purpose  which  in  a  few  years  raised 
him  from  a  servitor  in  the  theatre  to  a  shareholder  and 
director,  and  which  led. him  to  develop  the  greatest  pro- 
ductive talent  of  his  country,  till  he  outshone  all  rivals  in 
his  calling,  and  won  the  appreciation  of  the  leaders  of 
fashion  and  taste. 

Brandes  :   William  Shakespeare. 

IV. 
Lady  Anne. 

For  the  very  reason  that  the  Poet  has  not  given  any 
individual  characteristics  to  this  woman,  it  seems  as 
though  he  would  say:  Such  is  feminine  human  nature. 
It  is  quite  evident  that  in  his  younger  days  he  was  not 
so  much  alive  to  the  beauties  of  the  womanly  character 
as  he  became  at  a  later  period  of  his  Hfe.  He  is  fond  of 
drawing  unamiable  women  like  Adriana  in  The  Comedy 
of  Errors,  violent  and  corrupt  women  like  Tamora  in 
Titus  Androniciis,  and  Alargaret  in  Henry  VI.,  or  scolding 
women  like  Katherine  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.  Here 
he  gives  us  a  picture  of  peculiarly  feminine  weakness, 
and  personifies  in  Richard  his  own  contempt  for  it. 

Exasperate  a  woman  against  you  (he  seems  to  say),  do 
her  all  the  evil  you  can  think  of,  kill  her  husband,  de- 
prive her  thereby  of  the  succession  to  a  crown,  fill  her  to 
overflowing  with  hatred  and  execration — then  if  you  can 
only  cajole  her  into  believing  that  in  all  you  have  done, 
crimes  and  everything,  you  have  been  actuated  simply 
and  solely  by  burning  passion  for  her,  by  the  hope  of  ap- 
proaching her  and  winning  her  hand — why,  then  the 
game  is  yours,  and  sooner  or  later  she  will  give  in.  Her 
vanity  cannot  hold  out.  If  it  is  proof  against  ten  meas- 
ures of  flattery,  it  will  succumb  to  a  hundred ;  and  if  even 
that  is  not  enough,  then  pile  on  more.  Every  woman  has 
a  price  at  which  her  vanity  is  for  sale;  you  have  only  to 

14 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Comments 

dare  greatly  and  bid  high  enough.  So  Shakespeare 
makes  this  crookbacked  assassin  accept  Anne's  insults 
without  winking  and  retort  upon  them  his  declaration  of 
love — he  at  once  seems  less  hideous  in  her  eyes  from  the 
fact  that  his  crimes  were  committed  for  her  sake.  Shake- 
speare makes  him  hand  her  his  drawn  sword,  to  pierce 
him  to  the  heart  if  she  wnll;  he  is  sure  enough  that  she 
will  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  She  cannot  withstand  the 
intense  volition  in  his  glance;  he  hypnotises  her  hatred; 
the  exaltation  with  which  his  lust  of  powder  inspires  him 
bewilders  and  overpowers  her,  and  he  becomes  almost 
beautiful  in  her  eyes  when  he  bares  his  breast  to  her  re- 
venge. She  yields  to  him  under  the  influence  of  an  at- 
traction in  which  are  mingled  dizziness,  terror,  and  per- 
verted sensuality.  His  very  hideousness  becomes  a  stim- 
ulus the  more. 

Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 

V. 

Queen  Margaret. 

Although  banished  upon  pain  of  death,  she  [Mar- 
garet] returns  to  England  to  assist  at  the  intestine  con- 
flicts of  the  House  of  York.  Shakespeare  personifies  in 
her  the  ancient  Nemesis;  he  gives  her  more  than  human 
proportions,  and  represents  her  as  a  sort  of  supernatural 
apparition.  She  penetrates  freely  into  the  palace  of 
Edw^ard  IV.,  she  there  breathes  forth  her  hatred  in  pres- 
ence of  the  family  of  York  and  its  courtier  attendants. 
No  one  dreams  of  arresting  her,  although  she  is  an  exiled 
w^oman,  and  she  goes  forth,  meeting  no  obstacle,  as  she 
had  entered.  The  same  magic  ring,  which  on  the  first 
occasion  opened  the  doors  of  the  royal  mansion,  opens 
them  for  her  once  again,  when  Edward  IV.  is  dead,  and 
his  sons  have  been  assassinated  in  the  Tower  by  the 
order  of  Richard.  She  came,  the  first  time,  to  curse  her 
enemies ;    she   comes   now^   to   gather  the   fruits   of   her 

IS 


Comments  THE  TRAGF.DY  OF 

malediction.      Like   an   avenging   Fury,   or  the   classical 
Fate,  she  has  announced  to  each  his  doom. 
Mezieres:  Shakespeare,  ses  CEiivres  et  ses  Critiques. 

VI. 

Unique  Among  the  Dramas. 

Certain  qualities  which  make  it  unique  among  the 
dramas  of  Shakspere  characterize  the  play  of  King  Rich- 
ard III.  Its  manner_ol  conceiving  and  presenting  char- 
acter has  a  certam  resemblance,  not  elsewhere  t_o!Ib,e 
found  in  Shakspere's  writings  tn  the  iVJeal  manne-r_of 
Marlowe,  As^n  the  pl_ays  of  ^lailowe^  thereishere  one 
dominant  figurFdistinguished~by  a  fewstFongiyliiarked 
and  inofdirnitet3^"'^velope(l  qualities,  ihere  is  in  the 
cHaracterization  no  mystery,  but  rnuch  of  a  demonic  in- 
tensity. Certain  passages  are  entirely  in  the  lyrical- 
dramatic  style — an  emotion  which  is  one  and  the  same, 
occupying,  at  the  same  moment,  two  or  three  of  the  per- 
sonages, and  obtaining  utterance  through  them  almost 
simultaneously,  or  in  immediate  succession;  as  a  musi- 
cal motive  is  interpreted  by  an  orchestra,  or  taken  up 
singly  by  successive  instruments: — 

Eliz.  Was  never  widow  had  so  dear  a  loss. 
Chil.  Were  never  orphans  had  so  dear  a  loss. 
Duck.  Was  never  mother  had  so  dear  a  loss. 
Alas !  I  am  the  mother  of  these  griefs. 

Mere  verisimilitude  in  the  play  of  King  Richard  III. 
becomes,  at  times,  subordinate  to  effects  of  symphonic 
orchestration  or  of  statuesque  composition.  There  is  a 
Blake-like  terror  and  beauty  in  the  scene  in  which  the 
three  women — queens  and  a  duchess — seat  themselves 
upon  the  ground  in  their  desolation  and  despair  and  cry 
aloud  in  utter  anguish  of  spirit.  First  by  the  mother  of 
two  kings,  then  by  Edward's  widow,  last  by  the  terrible 
Medusa-like  Queen  Margaret,  the  same  attitude  is  as- 

i6 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Comments 

sumecl  and  the  same  grief  is  poured  forth.  Misery  has 
made  them  indifferent  to  all  ceremony  of  queenship,  and, 
for  a  time,  to  their  private  differences;  they  are  seated, 
a  rigid  yet  tumultuously  passionate  group,  in  the 
majesty  of  mere  womanhood  and  supreme  calamity. 
Readers  acquainted  with  Blake's  illustrations  to  the 
Book  of  Job  will  remember  what  effects,  sublime  and 
appalling,  the  artist  produces  by  animating  a  group  of 
figures  with  one  common  passion,  which  spontaneously 
produces  in  each  individual  the  same  extravagant  move- 
ment of  head  and  limbs. 

The  demonic  intensity  which  distinguishes  the  play 
proceeds  from  the  character  of  Richard  as  from  its 
source  and  centre.  As  with  the  chief  personages  of  Mar- 
lowe's plays,  so  R,ichard  in  this  play  rather  occupies  the 
imagination  by  audacity  and  force  than  insinuates  him- 
self through  some  subtle  solvent,  some  magic  and  mys- 
tery of  art.  His  character  does  not  grow  upon  us;  from 
the  first  it  is  complete.  We  are  not  curious  to  discover 
what  Richard  is,  as  we  are  curious  to  come  into  presence 
of  the  soul  of  Hamlet.  We  are  in  no  doubt  about  Rich- 
ard; but  it  yields  us  a  strong  sensation  to  observe  him 
in  various  circumstances  and  situations;  we  are  roused 
and  animated  by  the  presence  of  almost  superhuman 
energy  and  power,  even  though  that  power  and  that  en- 
ergy be  malign.     .     .     . 

He  plays  his  part  before  his  future  wife,  the  Lady 
Anne,  laying  open  his  breast  to  the  sword's  point  with 
a  malicious  confidence.  He  knows  the  measure  of 
woman's  frailty,  and  relies  on  the  spiritual  force  of  his 
audacity  and  dissinmlation  to  subdue  the  weak  hand 
which  tries  to  lift  the  sword.  With  no  friends  to  back 
his  suit,  with  nothing  but  "  the  plain  devil,  and  dissem- 
bling looks,"  he  wins  his  bride.  The  hideous  irony  of 
such  a  courtship,  the  mockery  it  implies  of  human  love, 
is  enough  to  make  a  man  "  your  only  jigmaker,"  and 
sends  Richard's  blood  dancing  along  his  veins. 

While  Richard  is  plotting  for  the  crown,  Lord  Has- 

17 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

tings  threatens  to  prove  an  obstacle  in  the  way.    What  is 
to  be  done?    Buckingham  is  dubious  and  tentative: — 

"  Now,  my  lord,  what  shall  we  do,  if  we  perceive 
Lord  Hastings  will  not  yield  to  our  complots?  " 

With  sharp  detonation,  quickly  begun  and  quickly 
over,  Richard's  answer  is  discharged,  "  Chop  off  his 
head,  man!  "  There  can  be  no  beginning,  middle,  or 
end  to  a  deed  so  simple  and  so  summary.  Presently, 
Hastings,  making  sundry  small  assignations  for  future 
days  and  weeks,  goes,  a  murdered  man,  to  the  confer- 
ence at  the  Tower.  Richard,  whose  startling  figure 
emerges  from  the  background  throughout  the  play  with 
small  regard  for  verisimilitude,  and  always  at  the  most 
effective  moment,  is  suddenly  on  the  spot,  just  as  Has- 
tings is  about  to  give  his  voice  in  the  conference  as 
though  he  were  the  representative  of  the  absent  Duke. 
Richard  is  prepared,  when  the  opportune  instant  has  ar- 
rived, to  spring  a  mine  under  Hastings's  feet.  But  mean- 
while a  matter  of  equal  importance  concerns  him— my 
Lord  of  Ely's  strawberries:  the  flavor  of  Holborn  straw- 
berries is  exquisite,  and  the  fruit  must  be  sent  for.  Rich- 
ard's desire  to  appear  disengaged  from  sinister  thought 
is  less  important  to  note  than  Richard's  need  of  mdul- 
ging  a  cynical  contempt  of  hyman  life.  The  explosion 
takes  place;  Hastings  is  seized;  and  the  delicacies  are 
reserved  until  the  head  of  Richard's  enemy  is  off.  There 
is  a  wantonness  of  diablerie  in  this  incident: — 

"  Talk' St  thou  to  me  of  ifs?  Thou  art  a  traitor — 
Off  with  his  head!  Now,  by  Saint  Paul,  I  swear 
I  will  not  dine  until  I  see  the  same !  " 

DowDEN :  Shakspere. 

VII. 

Want  of  Interaction. 

There  is,  properly  speaking,  no  interaction  between 
Richard  and  the  other  persons  of  the  drama.     He  is  the 

i8 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Comments 

all-in-all  of  the  play,  the  soul  of  everything  that  is  done, 
the  theme  of  everything  that  is  said:  there  is  scarce  a 
thought,  feeling,  or  purpose  expressed,  but  what  is  either 
from  him,  or  in  some  way  concerning  him,  he  being  the 
author,  the  subject,  or  the  occasion  of  it.  And  herein  is 
this  play  chiefly  distinguished  from  all  the  others,  and, 
certainly,  as  a  work  of  art,  not  distinguished  for  the  bet- 
ter, that  the  entire  action  in  all  its  parts  and  stages,  so 
far  at  least  as  it  has  any  human  origin  or  purpose,  both 
springs  from  the  hero  as  its  source,  and  determines  in 
him  as  its  end.  So  that  the  drama  is  not  properly  a  com- 
position of  cooperative  characters,  mutually  developing 
and  developed;  but  the  prolonged  yet  hurried  outcome 
of  a  single  character,  to  which  all  the  other  persons  serve 
but  as  exponents  and  conductors;  as  if  he  were  a  volume 
of  electrical  activity,  disclosing  himself  by  means  of 
others,  and  quenching  their  active  powers  at  the  very 
moment  of  doing  so.  Observe,  we  say  the  other  persons, 
not  characters ;  for  however  much  their  forms  meet  the 
eye,  their  inward  being  is  for  the  most  part  held  in  abey- 
ance and  kept  from  transpiring  by  the  virtual  ubiquity  of 
the  hero. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 


However  successful  and  life-like,  however  many-sided 
and  extraordinary  a  character  may  be,  it  cannot  of  itself 
constitute  a  dramatic  work  of  art.  Characterisation  is 
but  one  particular  function  of  dramatic  poetry;  it  is  very 
important,  but  still  not  the  first  and  highest  object.  It 
stands  in  the  same  relation  to  the  entire  organism  as  a 
portrait  to  an  historical  painting.  In  the  latter  every 
figure  ought  to  be  a  living  portrait  full  of  individual 
reality,  but  receives  its  true  significance  only  from  its 
position  and  from  its  relation  to  the  other  figures;  ac- 
cordingly, the  interaction  of  the  several  parts  among  one 
another,  and  their  cooperation  in  the  action  represented, 
gives  the  picture  its  historical  character.     It  is  precisely 

19 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

the  same  with  a  dramatic  composition,  because  it  is  so 
in  real  life.  When  viewed  in  this  light  Richard  III.  might 
seem  open  to  censure.  "  I  am  myself  alone  "  is  his  spell- 
word,  and,  Hke  a  sudden  flash  of  light,  reveals  not  only 
the  character  of  Richard  himself,  but  that  of  the  whole 
drama.  As  in  life  so  in  the  play,  he  in  reality  stands 
alone.  All  the  other  personages  (chiefly  women  and  chil- 
dren, or  single  subjects)  are  in  no  way  his  equals,  and 
are  powerless  against  the  whole  royal  power  which  is  on 
his  side.  The  destructive  force  of  his  tyranny,  the  vio- 
lence of  his  unmitigated  selfishness  and  wickedness,  ac- 
companied as  they  are  by  intellect,  wit,  and  eloquence, 
have  no  organic  counterpoise.  On  the  one  side  we  have 
only  power  and  energy,  on  the  other  only  submission  and 
impotence.  The  principle  of  interaction,  which  is  so 
important  in  life  and  in  history,  retires  far  into  the  back- 
ground; not  till  the  fifth  act  is  the  tyrant  opposed  by  a 
real  and  worthy  adversary  in  the  person  of  Richmond. 
Accordingly,  the  drama  is  wanting  in  drastic  animation; 
the  action  (that  which  is  actually  done  or  which  happens) 
proceeds  but  slowly  compared  with  others  of  Shak- 
speare's  plays. 

Ulrici  :  Shakspeare's  Dramatic  Art, 

VIII. 

A  Comparison. 

If  we  compare  the  speeches  [of  Edmund  in  Lear,  and 
of  lago  in  Othello]  with  Richard's,  and  in  like  manner 
if  we  compare  the  way  in  which  lago's  plot  is  first  sown, 
and  springs  up  and  gradually  grows  and  ripens  in  his 
brain,  with  Richard's  downright  enunciation  of  his  pro- 
jected series  of  crimes  from  the  first,  we  may  discern  the 
contrast  between  the  youth  and  the  mature  manhood  of 
the  mightiest  intellect  that  ever  lived  upon  earth,  a  con- 
trast almost  equally  observable  in  the  difference  between 
the  diction  and  metre  of  the  two  plays,  and  not  unlike 

20 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Commenis 

that  between  a  great  river  rushing  along  turbidly  in 
Spring,  bearing  the  freshly  melted  snows  from  Alpine 
mountains,  with  flakes  of  light  scattered  here  and  there 
over  its  surface,  and  the  same  river,  when  its  waters  have 
subsided  into  their  autumnal  tranquillity,  and  compose  a 
vast  mirror  for  the  whole  landscape  around  them,  and 
for  the  sun  and  stars  and  sky  and  clouds  overhead. 

Hare  :  Guesses  at  Truth. 

IX. 

Popularity  of  the  Play. 

Richard  III.  is,  and  long  has  been — taking  the  stage 
and  the  closet  together — the  most  universally  and  unin- 
terruptedly popular  of  its  author's  w^orks.  Few  of  Shake- 
speare's plays  passed  through  more  than  two  or  three 
editions,  as  they  originally  appeared,  separately,  in  the 
customary  form  of  quarto  pamphlets.  Of  Hamlet,  which 
seems  to  have  been  the  most  popular  of  the  other  trag- 
edies, there  are  but  six  of  these  editions ;  while  of  Rich- 
ard III.,  between  1597  and,  1634,  we  have,  in  addition  to 
the  copies  in  the  first  two  Folios,  no  less  than  eight  sepa- 
rate editions,  still  preserved;  and  it  is  possible  that  there 
may  have  been  yet  another,  no  longer  extant.  There  are 
also  more  references  and  allusions  to  it,  in  the  writings 
of  Shakespeare's  contemporaries,  and  in  those  of  the 
next  generation  of  authors,  than  to  any  other  of  his 
works.  For  instance.  Bishop  Corbet,  in  his  poems,  Ful- 
ler, in  his  Church  History,  and  Milton,  in  one  of  his  prose 
controversial  tracts,  all  refer  to  it  as  familiar  to  their 
readers.  It  has  kept  perpetual  possession  of  the  stage, 
either  in  its  primitive  form,  or  as  altered  and  adapted  to 
the  tastes  of  the  times  by  CoUey  Gibber  or  by  John 
Kemble.  In  one  or  other  of  these  forms  Richard  III. 
has  been  the  favourite  character  of  all  the  eminent  Eng- 
lish tragedians,  from  Burbage,  the  original  "  Crook- 
back,"  who  was  identified  in  his  day,  in  the  public  mind, 

2i 


Comments 

with  the  part,  through  the  long  succession  of  the  mon- 
archs  of  the  Enghsh  stage — Betterton,  Gibber,  Quin, 
Garrick,  Henderson,  Kemble,  Gooke,  Kean — down  to 
our  own  days.  Yet,  in  all  the  higher  attributes  of  the 
poetic  drama  Richard  III.  bears  no  comparison  with  the 
Poet's  greater  tragedies,  or  with  the  graver  scenes  of  his 
more  brilliant  comedies.  Intellectually  and  poetically,  it 
must  be  assigned  to  a  much  lower  class  than  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  or  Othello ;  than  Lear  or  Macbeth ;  than  The  Tem- 
pest or  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Verplanck  :   The  Illustrated  Shakespeare. 


22 


The  Tragedy  of 
King  Richard  III 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

King  Edward  tJie  Fourth. 

Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  aftcrzcards  King  Edivard  V.r'y    ^'^^l^^ 

Richard,  Duke   of   York,  j     a'z«§: 

George,  Duke  of  Clarence,  ^ 

Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,        I  brothers  to  the  King. 

afterwards  King  Richard  III.,,   J 
A  young  son  of  Clarence. 

Henry,  Earl  of  Richmond,  afterwards  King  Henry  VII. 
Cardinal  Bourchier,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Thomas  Rotherham,  Archbishop  of  York. 
John    Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely. 
Duke  of  Buckingham. 
Duke  of  Norfolk. 
Earl  of  Surrey,  his  son. 
Earl  Rivers,  brother  to  Elizabeth. 
Marquis  of  Dorset  and  Lord  Grey,  sons  to  Elisabeth. 
Earl  of  Oxford. 
Lord  Hastings. 

LoR.o  Stanley,  called  also  Earl  of  Derby. 
Lord  Lovel. 
Sir  Thomas  Vaughan. 
Sir  Richard  Ratcliff. 
Sir  William  Catesby. 
Sir  James  Tyrrel. 
Sir  James  Blount. 
Sir  Walter  Herbert. 

Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 
Sir  William  Brandon. 

Christopher  Urswick,  a  priest.    Another  Priest. 
Tressel  and  Berkeley,  gentlemen  attending  on  the  Lady  Anne. 
Lord  Mayor  of  London.     Sheriff  of  Wiltshire. 
Elizabeth,  queen  to  King  Edward  IV. 
Margaret,  widow  of  King  Henry  VI. 
Duchess  of  York,  mother  to  King  Edward  IV. 
Lady  Anne,  zvidow  of  Edward  Prince  of   Wales,  son  to  King 

Henry  VI.;  afterwards  married  to  Richard. 
A  young  daughter  of  Clarence  (Margaret  Plantagexet)  . 
Ghosts  of  those  murdered  by  Richard  HL,  Lords  and  other  At- 
tendants, a  Pursuivant.  Scrivener,  Citizens,  Mur- 
derers, Messengers,  Soldiers,  etc. 
Scene  :  England, 

24 


The  Tragedy  of 
KING  RICHARD  III. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

London.     A  street. 

Enter  Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  solus. 

Glou.  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 

Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York ; 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lour'd  upon  our  house 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 

Now  are  our  brows  bound  with  victorious  wreaths  ; 

Our  bruised  arms  hung  up  for  monuments ; 

Our  stern  alarums  changed  to  merry  meetings, 

Our  dreadful  marches  to  delightful  measures. 

Grim-visaged  war  hath  smooth'd  his  wrinkled  front ; 

And  now,  instead  of  mounting  barbed  steeds  lo 

To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful  adversaries, 

He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber 

To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute. 

But  I,  that  am  not  shaped  for  sportive  tricks, 

Nor  made  to  court  an  amorous  looking-glass  ; 

I,  that  am  rudely  stamp'd   and  want  love's  majesty 

To  strut  before  a  wanton  ambling  nymph  ; 

I,  that  am  curtail'd  of  this  fair  proportion, 

Cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  nature, 

Deform'd,  unfinish'd,  sent  before  my  time  20 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Into  this  breathing  world,  scarce  half  made  up, 
And  that  so  lamely  and  unfashionable 
That  dogs  bark  at  me  as  I  halt  by  them ; 
Why,  I,  in  this  weak  piping  time  of  peace, 
Have  no  delight  to  pass  away  the  time, 
Unless  to  spy  my  shadow  in  the  sun, 
And  descant  on  mine  own  deformity: 
And  therefore,  since  I  cannot  prove  a  lover, 
To  entertain  these  fair  well-spoken  days, 
I  am  determined  to  prove  a  villain,  30 

And  hate  the  idle  pleasures  of  these  days. 
Plots  have  I  laid,  inductions  dangerous. 
By  drunken  prophecies,  libels  and  dreams, 
To  set  my  brother  Clarence  and  the  king 
In  deadly  hate  the  one  against  the  other : 
And  if  King  Edward  be  as  true  and  just 
As  I  am  subtle,  false  and  treacherous, 
This  day  should  Clarence  closely  be  mew'd  up. 
About  a  prophecy,  which  says  that  G 
Of  Edward's  heirs  the  murderer  shall  be.  40 

Dive,   thoughts,   down   to  my  soul :    here   Clarence 
comes. 

Enter  Clarence,  guarded,  and  Brakenbury. 

Brother,  good  day :   what  means  this  armed  guard 

That  waits  upon  your  grace? 
Clar.  His  majesty. 

Tendering  my  person's  safety,  hath  appointed 

This  conduct  to  convey  me  to  the  Tower. 
Glou.  Upon  what  cause? 

Clar.  Because  my  name  is  George. 

Glou,  Alack,  my  lord,  that  fault  is  none  of  yours ; 

26 


KINp  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

He  should,  for  that,  commit  your  godfathers : 

O,  behke  his  majesty  hath  some  intent 

That  you  shall  be  new-christen'd  in  the  Tower.      50 

But  what 's  the  matter,  Clarence  ?   may  I  know  ? 

Clar.  Yea,  Richard,  when  I  know ;   for  I  protest 
As  yet  I  do  not :   but,  as  I  can  learn, 
He  hearkens  after  prophecies  and  dreams ; 
And  from  the  cross-row  plucks  the  letter  G, 
And  says  a  wizard  told  him  that  by  G 
His  issue  disinherited  should  be ; 
And,  for  my  name  of  George  begins  with  G, 
It  follows  in  his  thought  that  I  am  he. 
These,  as  I  learn,  and  such  like  toys  as  these  60 

Have  moved  his  highness  to  commit  me  now. 

Glon.  Why,  this  it  is,  when  men  are  ruled  by  women : 
'Tis  npt  the  king  that  sends  you  to  the  Tower ; 
My  Lady  Grey  his  wife,  Clarence,  'tis  she 
llTaftempershim]^^     extrem  ity . 
Was  it  not  she  and  that  good  man  of  worship, 
Anthony  Woodville,  her  brother  there. 
That  made  him  send  Lord  Hastings  to  the  Tower, 
From  whence  this  present  day  he  is  deliver'd? 
We  are  not  safe,  Clarence  ;   we  are  not  safe.  70 

Clar.  By  heaven,  I  think  there  's  no  man  is  secure, 

But  the  queen's  kindred  and  night-walking  heralds. 
That  trudge  betwixt  the  king  and  Mistress  Shore. 
Heard  ye  not  what  an  humble  suppliant 
Lord  Hastings  was  to  her  for  his  delivery? 

GIou.  Humbly  complaining  to  her  deity 
Got  my  lord  chamberlain  his  liberty. 
I  '11  tell  you  what ;   I  think  it  is  our  way, 
If  we  will  keep  in  favour  with  the  king, 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  1.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  be  her  men  and  wear  her  livery :  80 

The  jealous  o'erworn  widow  and  herself, 
Since  that  our  brother  dubb'd  them  gentlewomen, 
Are  mighty  gossips  in  this  monarchy. 

Brak.  I  beseech  your  graces  both  to  pardon  me ; 
His  majesty  hath  straitly  given  in  charge 
That  no  man  shall  have  private  conference, 
Of  what  degree  soever,  with  his  brother. 

Glo\i.  Even  so  ;  an  't  please  your  worship,  Brakenbury, 
You  may  partake  of  any  thing  we  say : 
We  speak  no  treason,  man :   we  say  the  king         90 
Is  wise  and  virtuous,  and  his  noble  queen 
Well  struck  in  years,  fair,  and  not  jealous ; 
We  say  that  Shore's  wife  hath  a  pretty  foot, 
A  cherry  lip,  a  bonny  eye,  a  passing  pleasing  tongue ; 
And  that  the  queen's  kindred  are  made  gentle-folks : 
How  say  you,  sir?   can  you  deny  all  this? 

Brak.  With  this,  my  lord,  myself  have  nought  to  do. 

Glou.  Naught  to  do  with  Mistress  Shore!  I  tell  thee,  fellow, 
He  that  doth  naught  with  her,  excepting  one. 
Were  best  he  do  it  secretly  alone.  100 

Brak,  What  one,  my  lord  ? 

Glou.  Her  husband,  knave :  wouldst  thou  betray  me  ? 

Brak.  I  beseech  your  grace  to  pardon  me,  and  withal 
Forbear  your  conference  with  the  noble  duke. 

Clar.  We  know  thy  charge,  Brakenbury,  and  will  obey. 

Glou,  We  are  the  queen's  abjects,  and  must  obey. 
Brother,  farewell :    I  will  linto  the  king ; 
And  whatsoever  you  will  employ  me  in. 
Were  it  to  call  King  Edward's  widow  sister, 
I  will  perform  it  to  enfranchise  you.  no 

Meantime,  this  deep  disgrace  in  brotherhood 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Touches  me  deeper  than  von  canjiriafyirie.    ^  '  CMJ^f-^     / 
Clar.  I  know  it  pleaseth  neither  of  us^well  JtLJ ^(^^^^' 

Glon.  Well,  your  imprisonment  shall  not  be  long ; 
I  will  deliver  you,  or  else  lie  for  you : 
Meantime,  have  patience. 
Clar.  I  must  perforce.     Farewell. 

[Exeunt  Clarence,  Brakenbury,  and  Guard. 
Clou.  Go  tread  the  path  that  thou  shalt  ne'er  return, 
Simple,  plain  Clarence !     I  do  love  thee  so. 
That  I  will  shortly  send  thy  soul  to  heaven, 
If  heaven  will  take  the  present  at  our  hands.  120 

But  who  comes  here  ?  the  new-deliver'd  Hastings  ? 

Enter  Lord  Hastings. 

Hast.  Good  time  of  day  unto  my  gracious  lord ! 
Gloti.  As  much  unto  my  good  lord  chamberlain ! 

Well  are  you  welcome  to  the  open  air. 

How  hath  your  lordship  brook'd  imprisonment? 
Hast.  With  patience,  noble  lord,  as  prisoners  must : 

But  I  shall  live,  my  lord,  to  give  them  thanks 

That  were  the  cause  of  my  imprisonment. 
Glou.  No  doubt,  no  doubt ;  and  so  shall  Clarence  too ; 

For  they  that  were  your  enemies  are  his,  130 

And  have  prevail'd  as  much  on  him  as  you. 
Hast.  More  pity  that  the  eagle  should  be  mew'd. 

While  kites  and  buzzards  prey  at  liberty. 
Glou.  What  news  abroad? 
Hast.  No  news  so  bad  abroad  as  this  at  home ; 

The  king  is  sickly,  weak  and  melancholy, 

And  his  physicians  fear  him  mightily. 
Glou.  Now,  by  Saint  Paul,  this  news  is  bad  indeed. 

O,  he  hath  kept  an  evil  diet  long, 

29 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  overmuch  consumed  his  royal  person  :  140 

'Tis  very  grievous  to  be  thought  upon. 
What,  is  he  in  his  bed  ? 

Hast.  He  is.' 

Glou.  Go  you  before,  and  I  will  follow  you. 

[Exit  Hastings. 
He  cannot  live,  I  hope;   and  must  not  die, 
Till  George  be  pack'd  with  post-horse  up  to  heaven. 
1  '11  in,  to  urge  his  hatred  more  to  Clarence, 


4     /    With  lies  well  steel'd  with  weighty  arguments ; 
^::ij6^  /    And,  if  1  fail  not  in  my  deep  intent, 
V  Clarence  hath  not  another  day  to  live:  150 


^- 


Which  done,  God  take  King  Edward  to  his  mercy, 
And  leave  the  world  for  me  to  bustle  in ! 
For  then  I  '11  marry  Warwick's  youngest  daughter. 
What  though  I  kill'd  her  husband  and  her  father  ? 
The  readiest  way  to  make  the  wench  amends 
Is  to  become  her  husband  and  her  father : 
The  which  will  I ;  not  all  so  much  for  love. 
As  for  another  secret  close  intent. 
By  marrying  her  which  I  must  reach  unto. 
But  yet  I  run  before  my  horse  to  market:  160 

Clarence  still  breathes  ;  Edward  still  lives  and  reigns  : 
t    When  they  are  gone,  then  must  I  count  my  gains. 

•       [Exit. 
Scene  II. 

The  same.     Another  street. 

Enter  the  corpse  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  Gentlemen 
with  halberds  to  guard  it;  Lady  Anne  being  the 
mourner. 

Anne.  Set  down,  set  down  your  honourable  load — 
1 1  honour  may  be  shrouded  in  a  hearse — 
Avhilst  I  awhile  obsequiously  lament 

30 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

The  untimely  fall  of  virtuous  Lancaster. 

Poor  key-cold  figure  of  a  holy  king ! 

Pale  ashes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster ! 

Thou  bloodless  remnant  of  that  royal  blood ! 

Be  it  lawful  that  I  invocate  thy  ghost, 

To  hear  the  lamentations  of  poor  Anne, 

Wife  to  thy  Edward,  to  thy  slaughtered  son,  lo 

Stabb'd  by  the  selfsame  hand  that  made  these  wounds  ! 

Lo,  in  these  windows  that  let  forth  thy  life 

I  pour  the  helpless  balm  of  my  poor  eyes. 

Cursed  be  the  hand  that  made  these  fatal  holes ! 

Cursed  be  the  heart  that  had  the  heart  to  do  it ! 

Cursed  the  blood  that  let  this  blood  from  hence ! 

More  direful  hap  betide  that  hated  wretch. 

That  makes  us  wretched  by  the  death  of  thee, 

Than  I  can  wish  to  adders,  spiders,  toads, 

Or  any  creeping  venom'd  thing  that  lives !  20 

If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 

Prodigious,  and  untimely  brought  to  light, 

Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 

May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view ; 

And  that  be  heir  to  his  unhappiness  ! 

If  ever  he  have  wife,  let  her  be  made 

As  miserable  by  the  death  of  him, 

As  I  am  made  by  my  poor  lord  and  thee ! 

Come,  now  towards  Chertsey  with  your  holy  load. 

Taken  from  Paul's  to  be  interred  there ;  30 

And  still,  as  you  are  weary  of  the  weight, 

Rest  you,  whiles  I  lament  King  Henry's  corse. 

Enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  Stay,  you  that  bear  the  corse,  and  set  it  down. 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Anne.  What  black  magician  conjures  up  this  fiend, 
To  stop  devoted  charitable  deeds? 

Glou.  Villains,  set  down  the  corse ;   or,  by  Saint  Paul, 
I  '11  make  a  corse  of  him  that  disobeys. 

Gent.  My  lord,  stand  back,  and  let  the  coffin  pass. 

Giou.  Unmanner'd  dog !  stand  thou,  when  I  command : 
Advance  thy  halberd  higher  than  my  breast,  40 

Or,  by  Saint  Paul,  I  '11  strike  thee  to  my  foot. 
And  spurn  upon  thee,  beggar,  for  thy  boldness. 

Anne.  What,  do  you  tremble?  are  you  all  afraid? 
Alas,  I  blame  you  not ;   for  you  are  mortal. 
And  mortal  eyes  cannot  endure  the  devil. 
Avaunt,  thou  dreadful  minister  of  hell ! 
Thou  hadst  but  power  over  his  mortal  body, 
His  soul  thou  canst  not  have ;   therefore,  be  gone. 

Glou.  Sw^eet  saint,  for  charity,  be  not  so  curst. 

Anne.  Foul  devil,  for  God's  sake,  hence^  and  trouble  us 
not ;  50 

For  thou  hast  made  the  happy  earth  thy  hell, 
Fill'd  it  with  cursing  cries  and  deep  exclaims. 
If  thou  delight  to  view  thy  heinous  deeds, 
Behold  this  pattern  of  thy  butcheries. 
O,  gentlemen,  see,  see !   dead  Henry's  wounds 
Open  their  congeal'd  mouths  and  bleed  afresh. 
Blush,  blush,  thou  lump  of  foul  deformity; 
For  'tis  thy  presence  that  exhales  this  blood 
From  cold  and  empty  veins,  where  no  blood  dwells : 
Thy  deed,  inhuman  and  unnatural,  60 

Provokes  this  deluge  most  unnatural. 
O  God,  which  this  blood  madest,  revenge  his  death ! 
O  earth,  which  this  blood  drink'st,  revenge  his  death  ! 
Either  heaven  with  lightning  strike  the  murderer  dead. 

32; 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Or  earth,  gape  open  wide  and  eat  him  quick, 

As  thou  dost  swallow  up  this  good  king's  blood, 

Which  his  hell-govern'd  arm  hath  butchered ! 
Glou.  Lady,  you  know  no  rules  of  charity, 

Which  renders  good  for  bad,  blessings  for  curses. 
Anne.  Villain,  thou  know'st  no  law  of  God  nor  man :     70 

No  beast  so  fierce  but  knows  some  touch  of  pity. 
Glou.  But  I  know  none,  and  therefore  am  no  beast. 
Anne.  O  wonderful,  when  devils  tell  the  truth! 
Glou.  More  wonderful,  when  angels  are  so  angry. 

Vouchsafe,  divine  perfection  of  a  woman, 

Of  these  supposed  evils,  to  give  me  leave, 

By  circumstance,  but  to  acquit  myself. 
Anne.  Vouchsafe,  defused  infection  of  a  man. 

For  these  known  evils,  but  to  give  me  leave, 

By  circumstance,  to  curse  thy  cursed  self.  80 

Glou.  Fairer  than  tongue  can  name  thee,  let  me  have 

Some  patient  leisure  to  excuse  myself. 
Anne.  Fouler  than  heart  can  think  thee,  thou  canst  make 

No  excuse  current,  but  to  hang  thyself. 
Glou,  By  such  despair,  I  should  accuse  myself. 
Anne.  And,  by  despairing,  shouldst  thou  stand  excused 

For  doing  worthy  vengeance  on  thyself. 

Which  didst  unworthy  slaughter  upon  others. 
Glou.  Say  that  I  slew  them  not  ? 
Anne.  Why,  then  they  are  not  dead : 

But  dead  they  are,  and,  devilish  slave,  by  thee.        90 
Glou.  I  did  not  kill  your  husband. 

Anne.  Why,  then  he  is  alive. 

Glou.  ^^ay,  he  is  dead ;  and  slain  bj  Edward's  hand. 
Anne.  In  thy  foul  throat  thou  liest :  Queen  Margaret  saw 

Thy  murderous  falchion  smoking  in  his  blood ; 

3Z 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  which  thou  once  didst  bend  against  her  breast, 
But  that  thy  brothers  beat  aside  the  point. 

Glou.  I  was  provoked  by  her  slanderous  tongue, 

Which  laid  their  guilt  upon  my  guiltless  shoulders. 

Anne.  Thou  wast  provoked  by  thy  bloody  mind, 

Which  never  dreamt  on  aught  but  butcheries :       lOO 
Didst  thou  not  kill  this  king? 

GloM.  Igrant  ye. 

Anne.  Dost  grant  me,  hedgehog?  then,  God  grant  me  too 
Thou  mayst  be  damned  for  that  wicked  deed ! 
O,  he  was  gentle,  mild,  and  virtuous ! 

Gloii.  The  fitter  for  the  King  of  heaven,  that  hath  him. 

Anne.  He  is  in  heaven,  where  thou  shalt  never  come. 

Glon.  Let  him  thank  me,  that  holp  to  send  him  thither ; 
For  he  was  fitter  for  that  place  than  earth. 

Anne.  And  thou  unfit  for  any  place  but  hell. 

Glou.  Yes,  one  place  else,  if  you  will  hear  me  name  it. 

Anne.  Some  dungeon. 

Glon.  Your  bed-chamber.  iii 

Anne.  I  '11  rest  betide  the  chamber  where  thou  liest ! 

Glon.  So  will  it,  madam,  till  I  lie  with  you. 

Anne.  I  hope  so. 

Glon.  I  know  so.     But,  gentle  Lady  Anne, 

To  leave  this  keen  encounter  of  our  wits. 
And  fall  somewhat  into  a  slower  method, 
Is  not  the  causer  of  the  timeless  deaths 
Of  these  Plantagenets,  Henry  and  Edward, 
As  blameful  as  the  executioner? 

Anne.  Thou  art  the  cause,  and  most  accursed  effect.    120 

Glou.  Your  beauty  was  the  cause  of  that-^ffect  ; 
Your  beauty,  which  did  hau^^"  me  i^  ^y  gl^fp 
To  undertake  the  death  of  all  the  worj^d, 

34 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

So  I  mieht  live  one  hour  in  vour  sweet  bosom. 

•Vi 2___ :: >_ 

Aline.  If  I  thought  that,  I  tell  thee,  homicide, 

These  nails  should  rend  that  beauty  from  my  cheeks. 

Clou,  These    eyes    could    never    endure    sweet    beauty's 
wreck ; 
You  should  not  blemish  it,  if  I  stood  by : 
As  all  the  world  is  cheered  by  the  sun, 
So  I  by  that ;  it  is  my  day,  my  life.  130 

Amte.  Black  night  o'ershade  thy  day,  and  death  thy  life ! 

Clou.  Curse  not  thyself,  fair  creature ;   thou  art  both. 

Anne.  I  would  I  w^ere,  to  be  revenged  on  thee. 

Glon.  It  is  a  quarrel  most  unnatural, 

To  be  revenged  on  him  that  loveth  you. 

Anne.  It  is  a  quarrel  just  and  reasonable, 

To  be  revenged  on  him  that  slew  my  husband. 

Glou.  He  that  bereft  thee,  lady,  of  thy  husband. 
Did  it  to  help  thee  to  a  better  husband. 

Anne.  His  better  doth  not  breathe  upon  the  earth.       140 

Glon.  He  lives  that  loves  you  better  than  he  could. 

Anne.  Name  him. 

Glou.  Plantagenet. 

Anne.  Why,  that  was  he. 

Glou.  The  selfsame  name,  but  one  of  better  nature. 

Anne.  "Where  is  he  ? 

Glon.  Here.      [She  spitfeth  at  him.]     Why 

dost  thou  spit  at  me  ? 

Anne.  Would  it  were  mortal  poison,  for  thy  sake ! 

Glou.  Never  came  poison  from  so  sweet  a  place. 

Anne.  Never  hung  poison  on  a  fouler  toad. 

Out  of  my  sight !   thou  dost  infect  my  eyes. 

Glou.  Thine  eyes,  sw^eet  lady,  have  Infected  mine.         150 

Anne.  Would  they  were  basilisks,  to  strike  thee  dead ! 

35 


I 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Glou.  I   would  they  were,  that  I  might  die  at  once ; 
For  now  they  kill  me  with  a  living  death. 
Those   eyes   of   thine   from   mine   have   drawn    salt 
\yS6J^^  tears, 

f\        Shamed  their  aspect  with  store  of  childish  drops : 
_  Vl        These  eyes,  which  never  shed  remorseful  tear, 

I  J)  '^  No,  when  my  father  York  and  Edward  wept, 

To  hear  the  piteous  moan  that  Rutland  made 
When  black-faced  Clifford  shook  his  sword  at  him ; 
Nor  when  thy  warlike  father,  like  a  child,  i6o 

^^t^J^      Told  the  sad  story  of  my  father's  death, 
(^^  And  twenty  times  made  pause  to  sob  and  weep, 

Q  0j^        That  all  the  standers-by  had  wet  their  cheeks. 
Like  trees  bedash'd  with  rain  :   in  that  sad  time 
My  manly  eyes  did  scorn  an  humble  tear ; 
And  what  these  sorrows  could  not  thence  exhale, 
Thy  beauty  hath,  and  made  them  blind  with  weeping. 
I  never  sued  to  friend  nor  enemy ; 
My  tongue  could  never  learn  sweet  smoothing  words ; 
But,  now  thy  beauty  is  proposed  my  fee,  170 

My  proud  heart  sues,  and  prompts  my  tongue  to 
speak.  [She  looks  scornfully  at  him. 

Teach  not  thy  lips  such  scorn,  for  they  were  made 
For  kissing,  lady,  not  for  such  contempt. 
If  thy  revengeful  heart  cannot  forgive, 
Lo,  here  I  lend  thee  this  sharp-pointed  sword ; 
Which  if  thou  please  to  hide  in  this  true  bosom, 
And  let  the  soul  forth  that  adoreth  thee, 
I  lay  it  naked  to  the  deadly  stroke, 
nd  humbly  beg  the  death  upon  my  knee. 

[He  lays  his  breast  open:  she  offers 
at  it  zvith  his  szuord. 

36 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Nay,  do  not  pause ;   for  I  did  kill  King  Henryl     i8o 
But  'twas  thy  beauty  that  provoked  me.  ^ 

Nay,    now    dispatch;    'twas    I    that    stabb'd    young 

Edward, 
But  'twas  thy  heavenly  face  that  set  me  on. 

[He7'e  she  lets  fall  the  sword. 
Take  up  the  sword  again,  or  take  up  me. 

Anne.  Arise,  dissembler :   though  I  wish  thy  death, 
I  will  not  be  the  executioner. 

Glou.  Then  bid  me  kill  myself,  and  I  will  do  it. 

Anne.  I  have  already. 

Glou.  Tush,  that  was  in  thy  rage : 

Speak  it  again,  and,  even  with  the  w^ord, 
That  hand,  whicti^_tor_thy  love,  did  kill  thyjpve, 
Shall,  for  thy  love^ill  a  far  truer  love^  191 

To^th  their  deaths  shalt  thou  be  accessary. 

Anne.  I  would  I  knew  thy  heart. 

Glou.  'Tis  figured  in  my  tongue. 

Anne.  I  fear  me  both  are  false. 

Glou.  Then  never  man  was  true. 

Anne.  Well,  well,  put  up  your  sword. 

Glou.  Say,  then,  my  peace  is  made. 

Anne.  That  shall  you  know  hereafter. 

Glou.  But  shall  I  live  in  hope  ?  200 

Anne.  All  men,  I  hope,  Hve  so. 

Glou.  Vouchsafe  to  wear  this  ring. 

Anne.  To  take  is  not  to  give. 

Glou.  Look,  how  this  ring  encompasseth  thy  finger, 
Even  so  thy  breast  encloseth  my  poor  heart ; 
Wear  both  of  them,  for  both  of  them  are  thine. 
And  if  thy  poor  devoted  suppliant  may 
But  beg  one  favour  at  thy  gracious  hand, 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Thou  dost  confirm  his  happiness  for  ever. 

Anne.  What  is  it?  210 

Glou.  That  it  would  please  thee  leave  these  sad  designs 
To  him  that  hath  more  cause  to  be  a  mourner, 
And  presently  repair  to  Crosby  Place ; 
Where,  after  I  have  solemnly  interr'd 
At  Chertsey  monastery  this  noble  king, 
And  wet  his  grave  with  my  repentant  tears, 
I  will  with  all  expedient  duty  see  you : 
For  divers  imknown  reasons,  I  beseech  you, 
Grant  me  this  boon. 

Anne.  With  all  my  heart ;  and  much  it  joys  me  too,    220 
To  see  you  are  become  so  penitent. 
Tressel  and  Berkeley,  go  along  with  me. 

Glou.  Bid  me  farewell. 

Anne.  'Tis  more  than  you  deserve ; 

gut  since  you  teach  me  how_to  flatter  you. 
Imagine  I  have  said  farewell  already—^ 
<r "        ^Sxt^^Lady~Anmr^ressel,  and  Berkeley. 

Glou.  Sirs,  take  up  the  corse. 

Gent^  Towards  Chertsey,  noble  lord? 

Glou.  No,  to  White-Friars ;   there  attend  my  coming. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Gloucester. 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'd  ? 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  won  ? 
'  I  '11  have  her ;  but  I  will  not  keep  her  long.  230 

What!   I,  that  kill'd  her  husband  and  his  father. 
To  take  her  in  her  heart's  extremest  hate, 
With  curses  in  her  mouth,  tears  in  her  eyes, 
The  bleeding  witness  of  her  hatred  by ; 
Having  God,  her  conscience,  and  these  bars  against 
me, 

38 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

And  I  nothing  to  back  my  suit  at  all, 

But  the  plain  devil  and  dissembling  looks, 

And  yet  to  win  her,  all  the  world  to  nothing ! 

Ha!  ' 

Hath  she  forgot  already  that  brave  prince,  240 

Edward,  her  lord,  whom  I,  some  three  months  since, 

Stabb'd  in  my  angry  mood  at  Tewksbury  ? 

A  sweeter  and  a  lovelier  gentleman, 

Framed  in  the  prodigality  of  nature, 

Young,  vaHant,  wise,  and,  no  doubt,  right  royal, 

The  spacious  world  cannot  again  afford : 

And  will  she  yet  debase  her  eyes  on  me, 

That  cropp'd  the  golden  prime  of  this  sweet  prince. 

And  made  her  widow  to  a  woful  bed? 

On  me,  whose  all  not  equals  Edward's  moiety  ?      250 

On  me,  that  halt  and  am  unshapen  thus  ? 

My  dukedom  to  a  beggarly  denier, 

I  do  mistake  my  person  all  this  while : 

Upon  my  life,  she  finds,  although  I  cannot, 

Myself  to  be  a  marvellous  proper  man. 

I  '11  be  at  charges  for  a  looking-glass. 

And  entertain  some  score  or  two  of  tailors, 

To  study  fashions  to  adorn  my  body : 

Since  I  am  crept  in  favour  with  myself, 

I  will  maintain  it  with  some  little  cost.  260 

But  first  I  '11  turn  yon  fellow  in  his  grave ; 

Ana  then  return  lamentino^  to  my  love. 

Shine  out,  fair  sun,  till  I  have  bought  a  glass. 

That  I  may  see  my  shadow  as  I  pass.  [Exit. 


39 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  III. 

The  palace. 
Enter  Queen  Elizabeth ,  Lord  Rivers,  and  Lord  Grey. 

Riv.  Have    patience,    madam :     there 's    no    doubt    his 
majesty 

Will  soon  recover  his  accustom'd  health. 
Grey.  In  that  you  brook  it  ill,  it  makes  him  worse : 

Therefore,  for  God's  sake,  entertain  good  comfort, 

And  cheer  his  grace  with  quick  and  merry  words. 
Q.  Eliz,  If  he  were  dead,  what  would  betide  of  me? 
Riv,  No  other  harm  but  loss  of  such  a  lord. 
Q.  Eliz.  The  loss  of  such  a  lord  includes  all  harm. 
Grey.  The  heavens  have  bless'd  you  with  a  goodly  son, 

To  be  your  comforter  when  he  is  gone.  lo 

0.  Eliz.  Oh,  he  is  young,  and  his  minority 

Is  put  unto  the  trust  of  Richard  Gloiicester, 

A^ati_that  loves  not  me,  nor  hone  ofyou. 
Riv,  Is  it  concluded  he  shall  be  protector? 
Q.  Eliz.  It  is  determined,  not  concluded  yet : 

But  so  it  must  be,  if  the  king  miscarry. 

Enter  Buckingham  and  Derby. 

Grey,  Here  come  the  lords  of  Buckingham  and  Derby. 

Buck.  Good  time  of  day  unto  your  royal  grace ! 

Der,  God  make  your  majesty  joyful  as  you  have  been  ! 

O.  Eliz.  The    Countess    Richmond,    good    my    Lord    of 
Derby,  20 

To  your  good  prayers  will  scarcely  say  amen. 
Yet,  Derby,  notwithstanding  she  's  your  wife, 
And  loves  not  me,  be  you,  good  lord,"assured 
I  hate  not  you  for  her  proud  arrogance. 

40 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Der,  I  do  beseech  you,  either  not  beUeve 

The  envious  slanders  of  her  false  accusers ; 
Or,  if  she  be  accused  in  true  report, 
Bear  with  her  weakness,  which,  I  think,  proceeds 
From  wayward  sickness,  and  no  grounded  malice. 

Riv.  Saw  you  the  king  to-day,  my  Lord  of  Derby  ?         30 

Der.  But  now  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  I 
Are  come  from  visiting  his  majesty. 

Q.  Eli::.  What  likelihood  of  his  amendment,  lords? 

Buck.  Madam,  good  hope  ;  his  grace  speaks  cheerfully. 

Q.  Eli::.  God  grant  him  health  !  Did  you  confer  with  him  ? 

Buck.  Madam,  wq  did :   he  desires  to  make  atonement 
Betwixt  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  your  brothers. 
And  betwixt  them  and  my  lord  chamberlain ; 
And  sent  to  warn  them  to  his  royal  presence. 

Q.  Eli::.  Would  all  were  well !  but  that  will  never  be : 

I  fear  our  happiness  is  at  the  highest.  41 

Enter  Gloucester,  Hastings,  and  Dorset. 

Glou.  They  do  me  wrong,  and  I  will  not  endure  it : 
Who  are  they  that  complain  unto  the  king, 
That  I,  forsooth,  am  stern  and  love  them  not? 
By  holy  Paul,  they  love  his  grace  but  lightly 
That  fill  his  ears  with  such  dissentious  rumours. 
Because  I  cannot  flatter  and  speak  fair. 
Smile  in  men's  faces,  smooth,  deceive  and  cog. 
Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish  courtesy, 
I  must  be  held  a  rancorous  enemy.  50 

Cannot  a  plain  man  liye,and  think  no  harm. 
But  thus  his  simple  truth  must  be  abused 
By  silken,  sly,  insinu'ating  Jacks.^ 

41 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Riv.  To  whom  in  all  this  presence  speaks  your  grace? 

Ulou.  To  thee,  that  hast  nor  honesty  nor  grace. 

When  have  I  injured  thee?   when  done  thee  wrong? 
Or  thee  ?  or  thee  ?  or  any  of  your  faction  ? 
A  plague  upon  you  all !     His  royal  person — 
Whom  God  preserve  better  than  you  would  wish ! — 
Cannot  be  quiet  scarce  a  breathing-while,  60 

But  you  must  trouble  him  with  lewd  complaints. 

Q.  Eliz.  Brother  of  Gloucester,  you  mistake  the  matter. 
The  king,  of  his  own  royal  disposition, 
And  not  provoked  by  any  suitor  else ; 
Aiming,  belike,  at  your  interior  hatred, 
Which  in  your  outward  actions  shows  itself 
Against  my  kindred,  brothers,  and  myself, 
Makes  him  to  send ;    that  thereby  he  may  gather 
The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  to  remove  it. 

Glou.  I  cannot  tell :   the  world  is  grown  so  bad,  70 

That  wrens  make  prey  where  eagles  dare  not  perch : 
Since  every  Jack  became  a  gentleman. 
There  's  many  a  gentle  person  made  a  Jack. 

Q.  Eliz.  Come,   come,   we  know  your  meaning,   brother 
Gloucester ; 
You  envy  my  advancement  and  my  friends' : 
God  grant  we  never  may  have  need  of  you ! 

.Glou.  Meantime,  God  grants  that  we  have  need  of  you : 
Our  brother  is  imprison'd  by  your  means. 
Myself  disgraced,  and  the  nobility 
Held  in  contempt ;   whilst  many  fair  promotions    80 
Are  daily  given  to  ennoble  those 
That  scarce,  some  two  days  since,  were  worth  a  noble. 

Q.  Eliz.  By  Him  that  raised  me  to  this  careful  height 
From  that  contented  hap  which  I  enjoy'd, 
42 


\ 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  lii. 

I  never  did  incense  his  majesty 
Against  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  but  have  been 
An  earnest  advocate  to  plead  for  him. 
My  lord,  you  do  me  shameful  injury, 
Falsely  to  draw  me  in  these  vile  suspects. 

Glou.  You  may  deny  that  you  were  not  the  cause  90 

Of  my  Lord  Hastings'  late  imprisonment. 

Riv.  She  may,  my  lord,  for — 

GIoiL  She  may.  Lord  Rivers!   why,  who  knows  not  so? 
She  may  do,  more,  sir,  than  denying  that : 
She  may  help  you  to  many  fair  preferments ; 
And  then  deny  her  aiding  hand  therein, 
And  lay  those  honours  on  your  high  deserts. 
What   may   she  not?     She   may,   yea,   marry,   may 
she, — 

Riv.  What,  marry,  may  she? 

Gloii.  What,  marry,  may  she !  marry  with  a  king,         100 
A  bachelor,  a  handsome  stripling  too: 
I  wis  your  grandam  had  a  worser  match. 

Q.  EH::.  My  Lord  of  Gloucester,  I  have  too  long  borne 
Your  blunt  upbraidings  and  your  bitter  scoffs : 
By  heaven,  I  will  acquaint  his  majesty 
With  those  gross  taunts  I  often  have  endured. 
I  had  rather  be  a  country  servant-maid 
Than  a  great  queen,  with  this  condition. 
To  be  thus  taunted,  scorn'd,  and  baited  at : 

Enter  Queen  Margaret,  behind. 

Small  joy  have  I  in  being  England's  queen.  no 

Q.  Mar.  And  lessen'd  be  that  small,  God,  I  beseech  thee ! 

Thy  honour,  state  and  seat  is  due  to  me. 
Glou.  What!  threat  you  me  with  telling  of  the  king? 

43 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Tell  him,  and  spare  not :  look,  what  I  have  said 

I  will  avouch  in  presence  of  the  king  : 

I  dare  adventure  to  be  sent  to  the  Tower. 

'Tis  time  to  speak ;   my  pains  are  quite  forgot. 
Q.  Mar.  Out,  devil !   I  remember  them  too  well : 

Thou  slewest  my  husband  Henry  in  the  Tower, 

And  Edward,  my  poor  son,  at  Tewksbury.  120 

Glou.  Ere  you  were  queen,  yea,  or  your  husband  king, 

I  was  a  pack-horse  in  his  great  affairs ; 

A  weeder  out  of  his  proud  adversaries, 

A  libera]  rewarder  of  his  friends : 

To  royalise  his  blood  I  spilt  mine  own. 
Q.  Mar.  Yea,  and  much  better  blood  than  his  or  thine. 
Glou.  In  all  which  time  you  and  your  husband  Grey 

Were  factious  for  the  house  of  Lancaster  ; 

And,  Rivers,  so  were  you.     Was  not  your  husband 

In  Margaret's  battle  at.  Saint  Alban's  slain?  133 

Let  me  put  in  your  minds,  if  you  forget, 

What  you  have  been  ere  now,  and  what  you  are ; 

Withal,  what  I  have  been,  and  what  I  am. 
0.  Mar.  A  murderous  villain,  and  so  still  thou  art. 
Glou.  Poor  Clarence  did  forsake  his  father,  Warwick; 

Yea,  and  forswore  himself, — which  Jesu  pardon  ! — 
Q.  Mar.  Which  God  revenge ! 
Glou.  To  fight  on  Edward's  party  for  the  crown  ; 

And  for  his  meed,  poor  lord,  he  is  mew'd  up. 

I  would  to  God  my  heart  were  flint,  like  Edward's  ; 

Or  Edward's  soft  and  pitiful,  like  mine :  141 

[  r.m  too  childish-foolish  for  this  world. 
Q.  Mar.  Hie  thee  to  hell  for  shame,  and  leave  the  world, 

Thou  cacodemon !   there  thy  kingdom  is. 
Riv.  My  Lord  of  Gloucester,  in  those  busy  days 

44 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Which  here  you  urge  to  prove  us  enemies, 
We  follow'd  then  our  lord,  our  lawful  king : 
So  should  we  you,  if  you  should  be  our  king. 

Clou.  If_I  should  be]_^ had  rather  be  a  pedlar: 

Far  be  it  from  mv  heart,  th^  ^^^'^]]p;h^  <^f  it !  150 

Q.  Eliz.  As  little  joy,  my  lord,  as  you  suppose 

You  should  enjoy,  were  you  this  country's  king, 
As  Httle  joy  may  you  suppose  in  me. 
That  I  enjoy,  being  the  queen  thereof. 

Q.  Mar.  A  little  joy  enjoys  the  queen  thereof; 
For  I  am  she,  and  altogether  joyless. 
I  can  no  longer  hold  me  patient.  [Advancing. 

Hear  me,  you  wrangling  pirates,  that  fall  out 
In  sharing  that  which  you  have  pill'd  from  me ! 
Which  of  you  trembles  not  that  looks  on  me?       160 
If  not,  that,  I  being  queen,  you  bow  like  subjects. 
Yet  that,  by  you  deposed,  you  quake  like  rebels  ? 
O  gentle  villain,  do  not  turn  away ! 

Clou.  Foul   wrinkled   witch,    what   makest   thou    in    my 
sight  ? 

Q.  Mar.  But  repetition  of  what  thou  hast  marr'd  ; 
That  will  I  make  before  I  let  thee  go. 

Clou.  Wert  thou  not  banished  on  pain  of  death  ? 

Q.  Mar.  I  was ;   but  I  do  find  more  pain  in  banishment, 
Than  death  can  yield  me  here  by  my  abode. 
A  husband  and  a  son  thou  owest  to  me ;  170 

And  thou  a  kingdom ;  all  of  you  allegiance : 
The  sorrow  that  I  have,  by  right  is  yours. 
And  all  the  pleasures  you  usurp  are  mine. 

Clou.  The  curse  my  noble  father  laid  on  thee. 

When  thou  didst  crown  his  warlike  brows  with  paper, 
And  with  thy  scorns  drew'st  rivers  from  his  eyes, 

45 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  then,  to  dry  them,  gavest  the  duke  a  clout, 
Steep'd  in  the  faultless  blood  of  pretty  Rutland, — 
His  curses,  then  from  bitterness  of  soul 
Denounced  against  thee,  ^re  all  fall'n  upon  thee;  i8o 
And  God,  not  we,  hath  plagued  thy  bloody  deed. 

Q.  Eliz.  So  just  is  God,  to  right  the  innocent. 

Hast.  O,  'twas  the  foulest  deed  to  slay  that  babe, 
And  the  most  merciless  that  e'er  was  heard  of ! 

Riv.  Tyrants  themselves  wept  when  it  was  reported. 

Dor.   No  man  but  prophesied  revenge  for  it. 

Buck.  Northumberland,  then  present,  wept  to  see  it. 

Q.  Mar.  What !  were  you  snarling  all  before  I  came, 
Ready  to  catch  each  other  by  the  throat. 
And  turn  you  all  your  hatred  now  on  me?  190 

Did    York's    dread    curse    prevail    so    much    with 

heaven, 
That  Henry's  death,  my  lovely  Edward's  death. 
Their  kingdom's  loss,  my  woful  banishment. 
Could  all  but  answer  for  that  peevish  brat  ? 
Can  curses  pierce  the  clouds  and  enter  heaven? 
Why,    then,    give    way,    dull    clouds,    to   my    quick 

curses ! 
If  not  by  war,  by  surfeit  die  your  king. 
As  ours  by  murder,  to  make  him  a  king ! 
Edward  thy  son,  which  now  is  Prince  of  Wales, 
For  Edward  my  son,  which  was  Prince  of  Wales, 
Die  in  his  youth  by  hke  untimely  violence!  201 

Thyself  a  queen,  for  me  that  was  a  queen,      . 
Outlive  thy  glory,  like  my  wretched  self ! 
Long  mayst  thou  live  to  wail  thy  children's  loss ; 
And  see  another,  as  I  see  thee  now, 
Deck'd  in  thy  rights,  as  thou  art  stall'd  in  mine ! 
46 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Long  die  thy  happy  days  before  thy  death  ; 
And,  after  many  lengthen 'd  hours  of  grief, 
Die  neither  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  queen ! 
Rivers  and  Dorset,  you  were  standers  by,  210 

And  so  wast  thou.  Lord  Hastings,  when  my  son 
Was  stabb'd  with  bloody  daggers :   God,  I  pray  him, 
That  none  of  you  may  live  your  natural  age. 
But  by  some  unlook'd  accident  cut  off ! 

Glou.  Have  done  thy  charm,  thou  hateful  withered  hag ! 

Q.  Alar.  And  leave  out  thee  ?    stay,  dog,  for  thou  shalt 
hear  me. 
If  heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store 
Exceeding  those  that  I  can  wish  upon  thee, 
O,  let  them  keep  it  till  thy  sins  be  ripe, 
And  then  hurl  down  their  indignation  220 

On  thee,  the  troubler  of  the  poor  world's  peace ! 
The  worm  of  conscience  still  begnaw  thy  soul ! 
Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  while  thou  livest. 
And  take  deep  traitors  for  thy  dearest  friends ! 
No  sleep  close  up  that  deadly  eye  of  thine. 
Unless  it  be  whilst  some  tormenting  dream 
Affrights  thee  with  a  hell  of  ugly  devils ! 
Thou  elvish-mark'd,  abortive,  rooting  hog! 
Thou  that  wast  seal'd  in  thy  nativity 
The  slave  of  nature  and  the  son  of  hell !  230 

Thou  slander  of  thy  mother's  heavy  womb ! 
Thou  loathed  issue  of  thy  father's  loins ! 
Thou  rag  of  honour  !  thou  detested — 

Glou.  Margaret. 

Q.  Mar.  Richard. 

Glou.  Ha! 

Q.  Mar.  I  call  thee  not. 

47 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Glou.  I  cry  thee  mercy  then,  for  I  had  thought 

That  thou  hadst  call'd  me  aU  these  bitter  names. 
Q.  Mar.  \Nhy,  so  I  did ;  but  look'd  for  no  reply. 

O,  let  me  make  the  period  to  my  curse ! 
Gloii.  'Tis  done  by  me,  and  ends  in  '  Margaret.' 
Q.  Eliz.  Thus    have    you    breathed    your    curse    against 
yourself.  240 

Q.  Mar.  Poor  painted  queen,  vain  flourish  of  my  fortime ! 

Why  strew 'st  thou  sugar  on  that  bottled  spider, 

Whose  deadly  web  ensnareth  thee  about  ? 

Fool,  fool !   thou  whet'st  a  knife  to  kill  thyself. 

The  time  will  come  that  thou  shalt  wish  for  me 

To  help  thee  curse  that  poisonous  bunch-back'd  toad. 
Hast.  False-boding  woman,  end  thy  frantic  curse, 

Lest  to  thy  harm  thou  move  our  patience. 
Q.  Mar.  Foul  shame  upon  you  !  you  have  all  moved  mine. 
Riv.  Were  you  well  served,  you  would  be  taught  your 
duty.  250 

Q.  Mar.  To  serve  me  well,  you  all  should  do  me  duty, 

Teach  me  to  be  your  queen,  and  you  my  subjects : 

O,  serve  me  well,  and  teach  yourselves  that  duty ! 
Dor.  Dispute  not  with  her ;  she  is  lunatic. 
Q.  Mar.  Peace,  master  marquess,  you  are  malapert : 

Your  fire-new  stamp  of  honour  is  scarce  current. 

O,  that  your  young  nobility  could  judge 

What  'twere  to  lose  it,  and  be  miserable ! 

They  that  stand  high  have  many  blasts  to  shake  them; 

And  if  they  fall,  they  dash  themselves  to  pieces.      260 
Glou.  Good  counsel,  marry :   learn  it,  learn  it,  marquess. 
Dor.  It  toucheth  you,  my  lord,  as  much  as  me. 
Glou.  Yea,  and  much  more :  but  I  was  born  so  high, 

Our  aery  buildeth  in  the  cedar's  top, 

48  .      • 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

And  dallies  with  the  wind  and  scorns  the  sun. 
Q.  Mar.  And  turns  the  sun  to  shade ;   alas  !   alas  ! 

Witness  my  son,  now  in  the  shade  of  death ; 

Whose  bright  out-shining  beams  thy  cloudy  wrath 

Hath  in  eternal  darkness  folded  up. 

Your  aery  buildeth  in  our  aery's  nest.  270 

O  God,  that  seest  it,  do  not  suffer  it ; 

As  it  was  won  with  blood,  lost  be  it  so ! 
Buck.  Have  done !   for  shame,  if  not  for  charity. 
Q.  Mar.  Urge  neither  charity  nor  shame  to  me : 

Uncharitably  with  me  have  you  dealt, 

And  shamefully  by  you  my  hopes  are  butcher'd. 

My  charity  is  outrage,  life  my  shame ; 

And  in  that  shame  still  live  my  sorrow's  rage ! 
Buck.  Have  done,  have  done. 
Q.  Mar.  O  princely  Buckingham,  I  '11  kiss  thy  hand,    280 

In  sign  of  league  and  amity  with  thee : 

Now  fair  befall  thee  and  thy  noble  house ! 

Thy  garments  are  not  spotted  with  our  blood, 

Nor  thou  within  the  compass  of  my  curse. 
Buck.  Nor  no  one  here ;   for  curses  never  pass 

The  lips  of  those  that  breathe  them  in  the  air. 
Q.  Mar.  I  '11  not  believe  but  they  ascend  the  sky, 

And  there  awake  God's  gentle-sleeping  peace. 

O  Buckingham,  take  heed  of  yonder  dog ! 

Look,  when  he  fawns,  he  bites :  and  when  he  bites, 

His  venom  tooth  wall  rankle  to  the  death  :  291 

Have  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him ; 

Sin,  death,  and  hell  have  set  their  marks  on  him. 

And  all  their  ministers  attend  on  him. 
Glou.  What  doth  she  say,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham  ? 
Buck.  Nothing  that  I  respect,  my  gracious  lord. 

49 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Q.  Mar.  What,  dost  thou  scorn  me  for  my  gentle  counsel  ? 

And  soothe  the  devil  that  I  warn  thee  from  ? 

O,  but  remember  this  another  day, 

When  he  shall  split  thy  very  heart  with  sorrow,     300 

And  say  poor  Margaret  was  a  prophetess. 

Live  each  of  you  the  subjects  to  his  hate, 

And  he  to  yours,  and  all  of  you  to  God's !  [E.vit. 

Hast.  Aly  hair  doth  stand  on  end  to  hear  her  curses. 
Riz'.  And  so  doth  mine :    I  muse  why  she  's  at  liberty. 
Gloii.  I  cannot  blame  her:   by  God's  holy  mother, 

She  hath  had  too  much  wrong ;  and  I  repent 

My  part  thereof  that  I  have  done  to  her. 
Q.  Eliz.  I  never  did  her  any,  to  my  knowledge. 
Gloii.  But  you  have  all  the  vantage  of  her  wrong.        310 

I  was  too  hot  to  do  somebody  good, 

That  is  too  cold  in  thinking  of  it  now. 

Marry,  as  for  Clarence,  he  is  well  repaid  ; 

He  is  frank'd  up  to  fatting  for  his  pains : 

God  pardon  them  that  are  the  cause  of  it ! 
Riz\  A  virtuous  and  a  Christian-like  conclusion, 

To  pray  for  them  that  have  done  scathe  to  us. 
Gloit.  So  do  I  ever:   [Aside]   being  well  advised: 

For  had  I  cursed  now,  I  had  cursed  myself. 

Enter  Catesby. 

Gates.  Madam,  his  majesty  doth  call  for  you  :  320 

And  for  your  grace ;  and  you,  my  noble  lords. 

Q.  Eliz.  Catesby,  we  come.     Lords,  will  you  go  with  us  ? 

Riv.  Madam,  we  will  attend  your  grace. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Gloucester. 

Glou.  I  do  the  wrong,  and  first  begin  to  brawl. 
The  secret  mischiefs  that  I  set  abroach 

50 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

I  lay  unto  the  grievous  charge  of  others. 

Clarence,  whom  I,  indeed,  have  laid  in  darkness, 

I  do  beweep  to  many  simple  gulls ; 

Namely  to  Hastings,  Derby,  Buckingham ; 

And  say  it  is  the  queen  and  her  allies  330 

That  stir  the  king  against  the  duke  my  brother. 

Now,  they  believe  it ;   and  withal  whet  me 

To  be  revenged  on  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey : 

But  then  I  sigh  ;  and,  with  a  piece  of  Scripture, 

Tell  them  that  God  bids  us  do  good  for  evil : 

And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villany 

V\i'\f}}  n]_dodds  ends  stolenTnTTTrf^ly  writ : 

And  s££jara~l^^int,  when  rnosT^t-i^m^  the3evil. 


Enter  tzvo  Murderers. 

But,  soft !   here  come  my  executioners. 

How  now,  my  hardy  stout  resolved  mates !  340 

Are  you  now  going  to  dispatch  this  deed  ? 

First  Miird.  We  are,  my  lord ;    and  come  to  have  the 
warrant. 
That  we  may  be  admitted  where  he  is. 

Gloii.  Well  thought  upon ;   I  have  it  here  about  me. 

[Gives  the  warrant. 
When  you  have  done,  repair  to  Crosby  Place. 
But,  sirs,  be  sudden  in  the  execution, 
Withal  obdurate,  do  not  hear  him  plead ; 
For  Clarence  is  well-spoken,  and  perhaps 
May  move  your  hearts  to  pity,  if  you  mark  him. 

First Murd.  Tush!  350 

Fear  not,  my  lord,  we  will  not  stand  to  prate ; 
Talkers  are  no  good  doers  :  be  assured 
We  come  to  use  our  hands  and  not  our  tongues. 

51 


Act  I.  Sc.  ivo  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Glou.  Your  eyes  drop  millstones,  when  fools'  eyes  drop  tears. 

I  like  you,  lads :    about  your  business  straight. 

Go,  go,  dispatch. 
First  Miird.  We  will,  my  noble  lord.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

London.     The  Tozver. 
Enter  Clarence  and  Brakenhiiry. 

Brak.  Why  looks  your  grace  so  heavily  to-day? 

Clar.  O,  I  have  pass'd  a  miserable  night. 

So  full  of  ugly  sights,  of  ghastly  dreams, 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man, 
I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night. 
Though  'twere  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days, 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time ! 

Brak.  AMiat  was  your  dream  ?     I  long  to  hear  you  tell  it. 

Clar.  Methoughts  that  I  had  broken  from  the  Tower, 
And  was  embark' d  to  cross  to  Burgundy ;  lo 

And,  in  my  company,  my  brother  Gloucester ; 
Who  from  my  cabin  tempted  me  to  walk 
Upon  the  hatches  :  thence  we  look'd  toward  England, 
And  cited  up  a  thousand  fearful  times. 
During  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
That  had  befall'n  us.     As  we  paced  along 
Upon  the  giddy  footing  of  the  hatches, 
Methought  that  Gloucester  stumbled  ;  and,  in  falling, 
Struck  me,  that  thought  to  stay  him,  overboard, 
Into  the  tumbling  billows  of  the  main.  23 

Lord,  Lord !   methought,  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  ! 
What  dreadful  noise  of  waters  in  mine  ears ! 
AMiat  ugly  sights  of  death  within  mine  eyes ! 

52 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks ; 
Ten  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon  ; 
Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 
Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels. 
All  scattered  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea : 
Some  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls ;   and  in  those  holes 
Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  there  were  crept,        30 
As  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes,  reflecting  gems, 
Which  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 
And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scattered  by. 

Brak.  Had  you  such  leisure  in  the  time  of  death 
To  gaze  upon  the  secrets  of  the  deep  ? 

Clar.  Methought  I  had  ;    and  often  did  I  strive 
To  yield  the  ghost :  but  still  the  envious  flood 
Kept  in  my  soul,  and  would  not  let  it  forth 
To  seek  the  empty,  vast  and  wandering  air ; 
But  smothered  it  within  my  panting  bulk,  40 

Which  almost  burst  to  belch  it  in  the  sea. 

Brak.  Awaked  you  not  with  this  sore  agony? 

Clar.  O  no,  my  dream  was  lengthened  after  life ; 
O,  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul, 
Who  pass'd,  «iethought,  the  melancholy  flood. 
With  that  grim  ferryman  which  poets  write  of, 
Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  night. 
The  first  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul. 
Was  my  great  father-in-law,  renowned  Warwick; 
Who  cried  aloud,  '  What  scourge  for  perjury  50 

Can  this  dark  monarchy  afford  false  Clarence  ? ' 
And  so  he  vanish'd :   then  came  wandering  by 
A  shadow  like  an  angel,  with  bright  hair 
Dabbled  in  blood  ;  and  he  squeak'd  out  aloud, 
*  Clarence  is  come ;   false,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence, 

53 


Act  1.  Sc.  IV.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  stabb'd  me  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury : 
Seize  on  him,  Furies,  take  him  to  your  torments ! ' 
With  that,  methoughts,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 
Environ'd  me  about,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 
Such  hideous  cries,  that  with  the  very  noise  60 

I  trembling  waked,  and  for  a  season  after 
Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  hell, 
Such  terrible  impression  made  the  dream. 

Brak.  No  marvel,  my  lord,  though  it  affrighted  you  ; 
I  promise  you,  I  am  afraid  to  hear  you  tell  it. 

Clar.  O  Brakenbury,  I  have  done  those  things, 
Which  now  bear  evidence  against  my  soul, 
For  Edward's  sake ;   and  see  how  he  requites  me ! 

0  God !   if  my  deep  prayers  cannot  appease  thee. 
But  thou  wilt  be  avenged  on  my  misdeeds,  70 
Yet  execute  thy  wrath  in  me  alone ; 

O,  spare  my  guiltless  wife  and  my  poor  children ! 

1  pray  thee,  gentle  keeper,  stay  by  me ; 
My  soul  is  heavy,  and  I  fain  would  sleep. 

Brak.  I  will,  my  lord :   God  give  your  grace  good  rest ! 

[Clarence  sleeps. 
Sorrow  breaks  seasons  and  reposing  hours. 
Makes  the  night  morning  and  the  noon-tide  night. 
Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  glories, 
An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil ; 
And,  for  unfelt  imagination,  80 

They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  cares : 
So  that,  betwixt  their  titles  and  low  names. 
There  's  nothing  differs  but  the  outward  fame. 

Enter  the  tzvo  Murderers. 

First  Murd.  Ho !   who 's  here  ? 

54 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Brak.  In  God's  name  what  are  you,  and  how  came  you 

hither  ? 
First  Muni.  I    would    speak    with    Clarence,    and    I 

came  hither  on  my  legs. 
Brak.  Yea,  are  you  so  brief  ? 
Sec.  Murd.  O  sir,  it  is  better  to  be  brief  than  tedious. 

Show  him  our  commission  ;  talk  no  more.  90 

[Brakcjibury  reads  it. 
Brak.  I  am  in  this  commanded  to  deliver 

The  noble  Duke  of  Clarence  to  your  hands : 

I  will  not  reason  what  is  meant  hereby, 

Because  I  will  be  guiltless  of  the  meaning. 

Here  are  the  keys,  there  sits  the  duke  asleep : 

I  '11  to  the  king ;  and  signify  to  him 

That  thus  I  have  resign 'd  my  charge  to  you. 
First  Murd.  Do  so,  it  is  a  point  of  wisdom  :   fare  you 

well.  [Exit  Brakenbury. 

See.  Murd.  What,  shall  we  stab  him  as  he  sleeps  ?      100 
First  Murd.  No ;    then    he     will    say    'twas    done 

cowardly,  when  he  wakes. 
See.  Murd.  When   he   wakes !     why,    fool,    he   shall 

never  wake  till  the  judgement-day. 
First  Murd.  Why,  then  he  will  say  we  stabbed  him 

sleeping. 
See.  Murd.  The  urging  of  that  word  '  judgement ' 

hath  bred  a  kind  of  remorse  in  me. 
First  Murd.  What,  art  thou  afraid  ? 
See.  Murd.  Not  to  kill  him,  having  a  warrant   for   no 

it;_but3o^be   damned   t'or  _killing_him.    from 

which  no  warrant  can  defend  iig. 
First  Murd.  I  thought  thou  hadst  been  resolute. 
See.  Murd.  So  I  am,  to  let  him  live. 

55 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

First  Murd.  Back  to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  tell 
him  so. 

Sec.  Murd.  I  pray  thee,  stay  a  while :  I  hope  my 
holy  humour  will  change ;  'twas  wont  to  hold 
me  but  while  one  would  tell  twenty. 

First  Murd.  How  dost  thou  feel  thyself  now?  120 

Sec.  Murd.  Faith,  some  certain  dregs  of  conscience 
are  yet  within  me. 

First  Murd.  RememjDer  our  reward,  when  the  deed 
is  done. 

Sec.  Murd.  'Zounds,  he  dies  :  I  had  forgot  the  reward. 

First  Murd.  Where  is  thy  conscience  now? 

Sec.  Murd.  In  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  purse. 

First  Murd.  So  when  he  opens  his  purse  to  give  us 
our  reward,  thy  conscience  flies  out. 

Sec.  Murd.  Let  it  go;    there's  few  or  none  will  en-   130 
tertain  it. 

First  Murd.  How  if  it  come  to  thee  again  ? 

Sec.  Murd.  I  '11  not  meddle  with  it :  it  is  a  dangerous 
thing :  it  makes  a  man  a  coward  :  a  m^n  cannot 
steal,  but  it  accuseth  him ;  he  cannot  swear,  but 
it  checks  him  ;  he  cannot  lie  with  his  neighbour's 
wife,  but  it  -detects  him :  it  is  a  blushing  shame- 
fast  spirit  that  mutinies  in  a  man's  bosom ;  it 
fills  one  full  of  obstacles :  it  made  me  once  re- 
store a  purse  of  gold,  that  I  found ;  it  beggars  140 
any  man  that  keeps  it :  it  is  turned  out  of  all 
towns  and  cities  for  a  dangerous  thing ;  and 
every  man  that  means  to  live  well  endeavours 
to  trust  to  himself  and  to  live  without  it. 

First  Murd.  'Zounds,  it  is  even  no\y  at  my  elbow, 
persuading  me  not  to  kill  the  duke. 

56 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Sec.  Murd.  Take  the  devil  in  thy  mind,  and  beUeve 

him  not :    he  would  insinuate  with  thee  but  to 

make  thee  sigh. 
First  Murd.  Tut,    I    am    strong-framed,    he    cannot  150 

prevail  with  me,  I  warrant  thee. 
Sec.  Murd.  Spoke  like  a  tall  fellow  that  respects  his 

reputation.     Come,  shall  we  to  this  gear  ? 
First  Murd.  Take   him    over    the    costard    with    the 

hilts  of  thy  sword,  and  then  we  will  chop  him  in 

the  malmsey-butt  in  the  next  room. 
Sec.  Murd.  O  excellent  device !  make  a  sop  of  him. 
First  Murd.  Hark !   he  stirs  :   shall  I  strike  ? 
Sec.  Murd.  No,  first  let's  reason  with  him.  159 

Clar.  Where  art  thou,  keeper?  give  me  a  cup  of  wine. 
Sec.  Murd.  You  shall  have  wine  enough,  my  lord,  anon. 
Clar.  In  God's  name,  what  art  thou  ? 
Sec.  Murd.  A  man,  as  you  are. 
Clar.  But  not,  as  I  am,  royal. 
Sec.  Murd.  Nor  you,  as  we  are,  loyal. 
Clar.  Thy  voice  is  thunder,  but  thy  looks  are  humble. 
Sec.  Murd.  My  voice  is  now  the  king's,  my  looks  mine 

own. 
Clar.  How  darkly  and  how  deadly  thou  dost  speak ! 

Your  eyes  do  menace  me  :  why  look  you  pale? 

Who  sent  you  hither  ?    Wherefore  do  you  come  ? 
Both.  To,  to,  to—  171 

Clar.  To  murder  me  ? 
Both.  Ay,  ay. 
Clar.  You  scarcely  have  the  hearts  to  tell  me  so, 

And  therefore  cannot  have  the  hearts  to  do  it. 

Wherein,  my  friends,  have  I  offended  you  ? 
First  Murd.  Offended  us  you  have  not,  but  the  king. 

57 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Clar.  I  shall  be  reconciled  to  him  again. 

Sec.  Murd.  Never,  my  lord ;   therefore  prepare  to  die. 

Clar.  Are  you  call'd  forth  from  out  a  world  of  men      i8o 
To  slay  the  innocent  ?    What  is  my  offence  ? 
Where  are  the  evidence  that  do  accuse  me  ? 
What  lawful  quest  have  given  their  verdict  up 
Unto  the  frowning  judge?  or  who  pronounced 
The  bitter  sentence  of  poor  Clarence'  death  ? 
Before  I  be  convict  by  course  of  law, 
To  threaten  me  with  death  is  most  unlawful. 
I  charge  you,  as  you  hope  to  have  redemption 
By  Christ's  dear  blood  shed  for  our  grievous  sins, 
That  you  depart  and  lay  no  hands  on  me :  190 

The  deed  you  undertake  is  damnable. 

First  Murd.  W' hat  we  will  do,  we  do  upon  command. 

Sec.  Murd.  And  he  that  hath  commanded  is  the  king. 

Clar.  Erroneous  vassal !  the  great  King  of  kings 
Hath  in  the  tables  of  his  law  commanded 
That  thou  shalt  do  no  murder :  and  wilt  thou  then 
Spurn  at  his  edict,  and  fulfil  a  man's  ? 
Take  heed ;   for  he  holds  vengeance  in  his  hands, 
To  hurl  upon  their  heads  that  break  his  law. 

Sec.  Murd.  And  that  same  vengeance  doth  he  hurl  on  thee. 
For  false  forswearing,  and  for  murder  too :  201 

Thou  didst  receive  the  holy  sacrament. 
To  fight  in  quarrel  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

First  Murd.  And,  like  a  traitor  to  the  name  of  God, 

Didst  break  that  vow  ;  and  with  thy  treacherous  blade 
Unrip'dst  the  bowels  of  thy  sovereign's  son. 

Sec.  Murd.  Whom  thou  wert  sworn  to  cherish  and  defend. 

First  Murd.  How  canst  thou  urge   God's   dreadful   law 
to  us, 

58 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

When  thou  hast  broke  it  in  so  dear  degree? 

Clar.  Alas!   for  whose  sake  did  I  that  ill  deed ?  210 

For  Edward,  for  my  brother,  for  his  sake : 
Why,  sirs, 

He  sends  ye  not  to  murder  me  for  this ; 
For  in  this  sin  he  is  as  deep  as  I. 
If  Goc^will  be  revenged  for  this  deed, 
O,  know  you  yet,  he  doth  it  publicly : 
Take  not  the  quarrel  from  his  powerful  arm ; 
He  needs  no  indirect  nor  lawless  course 
To  cut  off  those  that  have  offended  him. 

First  Miird.  Who  rhade  thee  then  a  bloody  minister,    220 
When  gallant-springing  brave  Plantagenet, 
That  princely  novice,  was  struck  dead  by  thee  ? 

Clar.  My  brother's  love,  the  devil,  and  my  rage. 

First  Miird.  Thy  brother's  love,  our  duty,  and  thy  fault. 
Provoke  us  hither  now  to  slaughter  thee. 

Clar.  Oh,  if  you  love  my  brother,  hate  not  me ; 
I  am  his  brother,  and  I  love  him  well. 
If  you  be  hired  for  meed,  go  back  again. 
And  I  will  send  you  to  my  brother  Gloucester, 
Who  shall  reward  you  better  for  my  life,  230 

Than  Edward  will  for  tidings  of  my  death. 

Sec.  Murd.  You  are  deceived,   your  brother  Gloucester 
hates  you. 

Clar,  O,  no,  he  loves  me,  and  he  holds  me  dear : 
Go  you  to  him  from  me. 

Both.  Ay,  so  we  will. 

Clar.  Tell  him,  when  that  our  princely  father  York 
Bless'd  his  three  sons  with  his  victorious  arm, 
And  charged  us  from  his  soul  to  love  each  other, 
He  little  thought  of  this  divided  friendship : 

59 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Bid  Gloucester  think  of  this,  and  he  will  weep. 

First  Murd.  Ay,  millstones  ;  as  he  lesson' d  us  to  w^eep. 

Clar.  O,  do  not  slander  him,  for  he  is  kind.  241 

First  Murd.  Right, 

As  snow  in  harvest.    Thou  deceivest  thyself : 
'Tis  he  that  sent  us  hither  now  to  slaughter  thee. 

Clar.  It  cannot  be ;   for  when  I  parted  with  him. 

He  hugg'd  me  in  his  arms,  and  swore,  wnth  sobs, 
That  he  would  labour  my  delivery. 

Sec.  Murd.  Why,  so  he  doth,  now  he  delivers  thee 

From  this  w^orld's  thraldom  to  the  joys  of  heaven. 

First  Murd.  Alake  peace  wath  God,  for  you  must  die,  my 
lord.  250 

Clar.  Hast  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  soul. 
To  counsel  me  to  make  my  peace  with  God, 
And  art  thou  yet  to  thy  own  soul  so  blind. 
That  thou  wdlt  war  with  God  by  murdering  me  ? 
Ah,  sirs,  consider,  he  that  set  you  on 
To  do  this  deed  will  hate  you  for  the  deed. 

Sec.  Murd.  What  shall  we  do  ? 

Clar.  Relent,  and  save  your  souls. 

First  Murd.  Relent!    'tis  cowardly  and  w^omanish. 

Clar.  Not  to  relent  is  beastly,  savage,  devilish. 

Which  of  you,  if  you  were  a  prince's  son,  260 

Being  pent  from  liberty,  as  I  am  now. 
If  two  such  murderers  as  yourselves  came  to  you. 
Would  not  entreat  for  life  ? 
My  friend,  I  spy  some  pity  in  thy  looks  ; 
O,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  flatterer. 
Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  entreat  for  me, 
As  you  would  beg,  w^ere  you  in  my  distress  : 
A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not  ? 
60 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Sec.  Murd.  Look  behind  you,  my  lord.  269 

First  Murd.  Take  that,  and  that :   if  all  this  will  not  do, 

[Stabs  him. 
I  '11  drown  you  in  the  malmsey-butt  within. 

[Exit,  zvith  the  body. 
Sec.  Murd.  A  bloody  deed,  and  desperately  dispatch'd ! 
How  fain,  like  Pilate,  would  I  wash  my  hands 
Of  this  most  grievous  guilty  murder  done ! 

Re-enter  First  Murderer. 

First  Murd.  How  now !    what   mean'st  thou,   that  thou 
help'st  me  not  ? 

By  heavens,  the  duke  shall  know  how  slack  thou  art ! 
Sec.  Murd.  I  would  he  knew  that  I  had  saved  his  brother ! 

Take  thou  the  fee,  and  tell  him  what  I  say ; 

For  I  repent  me  that  the  duke  is  slain.  [Exit. 

First.  Murd.  So  do  not  I :  go,  coward  as  thou  art.        280 

Now  must  I  hide  his  body  in  some  hole. 

Until  the  duke  take  order  for  his  burial : 

And  when  I  have  my  meed,  I  must  away ; 

For  this  will  out,  and  here  I  must  not  stay.  [Exit. 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

London.    The  palace. 

Flourish.  Enter  King  Edward  sick,  Queen  Elizabeth, 
Dorset,  Rivers,  Hastings,  Buckingham,  Grey,  and 
others. 

K.  Edzv.  Why,  so  :  now  have  I  done  a  good  day's  work  : 
You  peers,  continue  this  united  league : 
I  every  day  expect  an  embassage 

61 


Act  11.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

From  my  Redeemer  to  redeem  me  hence ; 

And  now  in  peace  my  soul  shall  part  to  heaven, 

Since  I  have  set  my  friends  at  peace  on  earth. 

Rivers  and  Hastings,  take  each  others  hand; 

Dissemble  not  your  hatred,  swear  your  love. 
Riv.  By  heaven,  my  soul  is  purged  from  grudging  hate ; 

And  with  my  hand  I  seal  my  true  heart's  love.         to 
Hast.  So  thrive  I,  as  I  truly  swear  the  like ! 
K.  Ediju.  Take  heed  you  dally  not  before  your  king ; 

Lest  he  that  is  the  supreme  King  of  kings 

Confound  your  hidden  falsehood,  and  award 

Either  of  you  to  be  the  other's  end. 
Hast.  So  prosper  I,  as  I  swear  perfect  love ! 
Riv.  And  I,  as  I  love  Hastings  with  my  heart. 
K.  Edzv.  Madam,  yourself  are  not  exempt  in  this. 

Nor  your  son  Dorset ;   Buckingham,  nor  you ; 

You  have  been  factious  one  against  the  other.  20 

Wife,  love  Lord  Hastings,  let  him  kiss  your  hand ; 

And  what  you  do,  do  it  unfeignedly. 
Q.  Eli::.  Here,  Hastings ;   I  will  never  more  remember 

Our  former  hatred,  so  thrive  I  and  mine ! 
K.  Edzv.  Dorset,    embrace    him ;     Hastings,    love    lord 

marquess. 
Dor.  This  interchange  of  love,  I  here  protest. 

Upon  my  part  shall  be  unviolable. 
Hast.  And  so  swear  I,  my  lord.  [They  embrace, 

K.  Edzv.  Now,  princely  Buckingham,  seal  thou  this  league 

With  thy  embracements  to  my  wife's  allies,  30 

And  make  me  happy  in  your  unity. 
Buck.   [To  the  Queen]  Whenever  Buckingham  doth  turn 
his  hate 

On  you  or  yours,  but  with  all  duteous  love 

62 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Doth  cherish  you  and  yours,  God  punish  me 
With  hate  in  those  where  I  expect  most  love 
When  I  have  most  need  to  employ  a  friend, 
And  most  assured  that  he  is  a  friend, 
Deep,  hollow,  treacherous  and  full  of  guile, 
Be  he  unto  me !  this  do  I  beg  of  God, 
When  I  am  cold  in  zeal  to  you  or  yours. 

[They  embrace. 

K.  Edzv.  A  pleasing  cordial,  princely  Buckingham,        41 
Is  this  thy  vow  unto  my  sickly  heart. 
There  wanteth  now  our  brother  Gloucester  here. 
To  make  the  perfect  period  of  this  peace. 

Buck.  And,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  noble  duke. 

Enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  Good  morrow  to  my  sovereign  king  and  queen ; 
And,  princely  peers,  a  happy  time  of  day ! 

K.  Edzi'.  Happy  indeed,  as  we  have  spent  the  day. 
Brother,  we  have  done  deeds  of  charity ; 
Made  peace  of  enmity,  fair  love  of  hate,  50 

Between  these  swelling  wrong-incensed  peers. 

Glou.  A  blessed  labour,  my  most  sovereign  hege : 
Amongst  this  princely  heap,  if  any  here, 
By  false  intelligence,  or  wrong  surmise. 
Hold  me  a  foe  ; 

If  I  unwittingly,  or  in  my  rage, 
Have  aught  committed  that  is  hardly  borne 
By  any  in  this  presence,  I  desire 
To  reconcile  me  to  his  friendly  peace : 
'Tis  death  to  me  to  be  at  enmity ;  60 

I  hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men's  love. 
First,  madam,  I  entreat  true  peace  of  you. 
Which  I  will  purchase  with  my  duteous  service ; 

63 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Of  you,  my  noble  cousin  Buckingham, 

If  ever  any  grudge  were  lodged  between  us ; 

Of  you.  Lord  Rivers,  and,  Lord  Grey,  of  you, 

That  all  without  desert  have  frown'd  on  me ; 

Dukes,, earls,  lords,  gentlemen  ;   indeed,  of  all. 

I  do  not  know  that  Englishman  alive 

With  whom  my  soul  is  any  jot  at  odds,  70 

More  than  the  infant  that  is  born  to-night : 

I  thank  my  God  for  my  humility. 

Q.  Elis.  A  holy  day  shall  this  be  kept  hereafter : 

I  would  to  God  all  strifes  were  well  compounded. 
My  sovereign  liege,  I  do  beseech  your  majesty 
To  take  our  brother  Clarence  to  your  grace. 

GIoii.  Why,  madam,  have  I  offer'd  love  for  this. 
To  be  so  flouted  in  this  royal  presence  ? 
Who  knows  not  that  the  noble  duke  is  dead? 

[They  all  start. 
You  do  him  injury  to  scorn  his  corse.  80 

Riv.  Who  knows  not  he  is  dead  !   who  knows  he  is  ? 

Q.  Eliz.  All-seeing  heaven,  what  a  world  is  this ! 

Buck.  Look  I  so  pale,  Lord  Dorset,  as  the  rest? 

Dor.  Ay,  my  good  lord ;   and  no  one  in  this  presence 
But  his  red  colour  hath  forsook  his  cheeks. 

K.  Edzv.  Is  Clarence  dead  ?  the  order  was  reversed. 

Glou.  But  he,  poor  soul,  by  your  first  order  died, 
And  that  a  winged  Mercury  did  bear ; 
Some  tardy  cripple  bore  the  countermand. 
That  came  too  lag  to  see  him  buried.  90 

God  grant  that  some,  less  noble  and  less  loyal. 
Nearer  in  bloody  thoughts,  but  not  in  blood, 
Deserve  not  worse  than  wretched  Clarence  did, 
And  yet  go  current  from  suspicion ! 

64 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Enter  Derby. 

Der.  A  boon,  my  sovereign,  for  my  service  done ! 

K.  Edzv.  I  pray  thee,  peace :   my  soul  is  full  of  sorrow. 

Dcr.  I  will  not  rise,  unless  your  highness  grant. 

K.  Edzv.  Then  spe^k  at  once  what  is  it  thou  demand'st. 

Der.  The  forfeit,  sovereign,  of  my  servant's  life ; 

Who  slew  to-day  a  riotous  gentleman  loo 

Lately  attendant  on  the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

K.  Edzv.  Have  I  a  tongue  to  doom  my  brother's  death, 
And  shall  that  tongue  give  pardon  to  a  slave  ? 
My  brother  slew  no  man  ;  his  fault  was  thought. 
And  yet  his  punishment  was  cruel  death. 
Who  sued  to  me  for  him  ?  wdio,  in  my  rage, 
Kneel'd  at  my  feet  and  bade  me  be  advised  ? 
W^ho  spake  of  brotherhood  ?  who  spake  of  love  ? 
Who  told  me  how  the  poor  soul  did  forsake 
The  mighty  Warwick,  and  did  fight  for  me?  no 

Who  told  me,  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury, 
When  Oxford  had  me  down,  he  rescued  me, 
And  said  '  Dear  brother,  live,  and  be  a  king '  ? 
Who  told  me,  when  we  both  lay  in  the  field 
Frozen  almost  to  death,  how  he  did  lap  me 
Even  in  his  own  garments,  and  gave  himself, 
All  thin  and  naked,  to  the  numb  cold  night  ? 
All  this  from  my  remembrance  brutish  wrath 
Sinfully  pluck'd,  and  not  a  man  of  you 
Had  so  much  grace  to  put  it  in  my  mind.  120 

But  when  your  carters  or  your  waiting-vassals 
Have  done  a  drunken  slaughter,  and  defaced 
The  precious  image  of  our  dear  Redeemer, 
You  straight  are  on  your  knees  for  pardon,  pardon ; 
And  I,  unjustly  too,  must  grant  it  you : 

65 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

But  for  my  brother  not  a  man  would  speak, 

Nor  I,  ungracious,  speak  unto  myself 

P'or  him,  poor  soul.    The  proudest  of  you  all 

Have  been  beholding  to  him  in  his  life ; 

Yet  none  of  you  would  once  plead  for  his  life.        130 

0  God,  I  fear  thy  justice  will  take  hold 

On  me,  and  you,  and  mine,  and  yours  for  this ! 
Come,  Hastings,  help  me  to  my  closet.     Oh,  poor 
Clarence !      [Exeunt  some  with  King  and  Queen. 
Glou.  This  is  the  fruit  of  rashness.     Mark'd  you  not 
How  that  the  guilty  kindred  of  the  queen 
Look'd  pale  when  they  did  hear  of  Clarence'  death? 
O,  they  did  urge  it  still  unto  the  king ! 
God  will  revenge  it.    But  come,  let  us  in, 
To  comfort  Edward  with  our  company. 
^ick.  We  wait  upon  your  grace.  [Exeunt,     140 

Scene  II. 

The  palace. 

Enter  the  Duchess,  of  York,  with  the  tzvo  children 
of  Clarence. 

Boy.  Tell  me,  good  grandam,  is  our  father  dead? 

Duch.  No,  boy. 

Boy.  Why  do  you  wring  your  hands,  and  beat  your 

breast,  and  cry  '  O  Clarence,  my  unhappy  son  '  ? 
Girl.  Why  do  you  look  on  us,  and  shake  your  head. 

And  call  us  wretches,  orphans,  castaways. 

If  that  our  noble  father  be  alive  ? 
Duch.  My  pretty  cousins,  you  mistake  me  much. 

1  do  lament  the  sickness  of  the  king. 

As  loath  to  lose  him ;  not  your  father's  death ;  10 

66 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

It  were  lost  sorrow  to  wail  one  that 's  lost. 

Boy.  Then,  grandam,  you  conclude  that  he  is  dead. 
The  king  my  uncle  is  to  blame  for  this : 
God  will  revenge  it ;  whom  I  will  importune 
With  daily  prayers  all  to  that  effect. 

Girl.  And  so  will  I. 

Diicli.  Peace,   children,  peace!    the  king  doth  love  you 
well : 
Incapable  and  shallow  innocents, 
You  cannot  guess  who  caused  your  father's  death. 

Boy.  Grandam,  we  can ;   for  my  good  uncle  Gloucester 
Told  me,  the  king,  provoked  by  the  queen,  21 

Devised  impeachments  to  imprison  him : 
And  when  my  uncle  told  me  so,  he  wept, 
And  hugg'd  me  in  his  arm,  and  kindly  kiss'd  my 

cheek ; 
Bade  me  rely  on  him  as  on  my  father. 
And  he  would  love  me  dearly  as  his  child. 

Diich.  Oh,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle  shapes, 
And  with  a  virtuous  vizard  hide  foul  guile ! 
He  is  my  son  ;  yea,  and  therein  my  shame ; 
Yet  from  my  dugs  he  drew  not  this  deceit.  30 

Boy.  Think  you  my  uncle  did  dissemble,  grandam? 

Diich.  Ay,  boy. 

Boy.  I  cannot  think  it.    Hark !   what  noise  is  this  ? 

Enter  Queen  Elizabeth,  zvith  her  hair  about  her  ears; 
Rivers  and  Dorset  after  her. 

C.  Eliz.  Oh,  who  shall  hinder  me  to  wail  and  weep, 
To  chide  my  fortune  and  torment  myself? 
I  '11  join  with  black  despair  against  my  soul, 
And  to  myself  become  an  enemy, 

67 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Diich.  What  means  this  scene  of  rude  impatience? 

Q.  Eliz.  To  make  an  act  of  tragic  violence  : 

Edward,  my  lord,  your  son,  our  king,  is  dead.  40 

Why  grow  the  branches  now  the  root  is  wither'd  ? 

Why  wither  not  the  leaves  the  sap  being  gone  ? 

If  you  will  live,  lament ;   if  die,  be  brief, 

That  our  swift-winged  souls  may  catch  the  king's, 

Or,  like  obedient  subjects,  follow  him 

To  his  new  kingdom  of  perpetual  rest. 

Vuch,  Ah,  so  much  interest  have  I  in  thy  sorrow 
As  I  had  title  in  thy  noble  husband ! 
I  have  bewept  a  worthy  husband's  death. 
And  lived  by  looking  on  his  images :  50 

But  now  two  mirrors  of  his  princely  semblance 
Are  crack'd  in  pieces  by  malignant  death. 
And  I  for  comfort  have  but  one  false  glass. 
Which  grieves  me  when  I  see  my  shame  in  him. 
Thou  art  a  widow  ;  yet  thou  art  a  mother. 
And  hast  the  comfort  of  thy  children  left  thee  : 
But  death  hath  snatch'd  my  husband  from  mine  arms. 
And  pluck'd  two  crutches  from  my  feeble  limbs, 
Edward  and  Clarence.    O,  what  cause  have  I, 
Thine  being  but  a  moiety  of  my  grief,  60 

To  overgo  thy  plaints  and  drown  thy  cries  ! 

Boy.  Good  aunt,  you  wept  not  for  our  father's  death, 
How  can  we  aid  you  with  our  kindred  tears  ? 

Girl.  Our  fatherless  distress  was  left  unmoan'd; 
Your  widow-dolour  likewise  be  unwept ! 

Q.  Eliz.  Give  me  no  help  in  lamentation  ; 

I  am  not  barren  to  bring  forth  complaints  : 
All  springs  reduce  their  currents  to  mine  eyes, 
That  I,  being  govern'd  by  the  watery  moon, 

68 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

May  send  forth  plenteous  tears  to  drown  the  world. 
Oh  for  my  husband,  for  my  dear  lord  Edward !        71 

CJiii  Oh  for  our  father,  for  our  dear  lord  Clarence ! 

Diich.  Alas  for  both,  both  mine,  Edward  and  Clarence ! 

Q.  Eliz.  What  stay  had  I  but  Edward?  and  he  's  gone. 

Chil.  What  stay  had  we  but  Clarence  ?  and  he  's  gone. 

Duch.  What  stays  had  I  but  they  ?  and  they  are  gone. 

Q.  Elis.  Was  never  widow  had  so  dear  a  loss. 

Chil.  Were  never  orphans  had  so  dear  a  loss. 

Duch.  Was  never  mother  had  so  dear  a  loss. 

Alas,  I  am  the  mother  of  these  moans  !  80 

Their  woes  are  parcell'd,  mine  are  general. 

She  for  an  Edward  weeps,  and  so  do  I  ; 

I  for  a  Clarence  weep,  so  doth  not  she : 

These  babes  for  Clarence  weep,  and  so  do  I ; 

I  for  an  Edward  weep,  so  do  not  they : 

Alas,  you  three,  on  me  threefold  distress'd 

Pour  all  your  tears  !    I  am  your  sorrow's  nurse, 

And  I  will  pamper  it  with  lamentations. 

Dor.  Comfort,  dear  mother :   God  is  much  displeased 

That  you  take  with  unthankfulness  his  doing :  90 

In  common  worldly  things,  'tis  call'd  ungrateful, 
With  dull  unwillingness  to  repay  a  debt 
Which  with  a  bounteous  hand  was  kindly  lent  ; 
Much  more  to  be  thus  opposite  with  heaven, 
For  it  requires  the  royal  debt  it  lent  you. 

Riv.  Madam,  bethink  you,  like  a  careful  mother. 

Of  the  young  prince  your  son :    send  straight   for 

him; 
Let  him  be  crown'd ;   in  him  your  comfort  lives  : 
Drown  desperate  sorrow  in  dead  Edward's  grave, 
And  plant  your  joys  in  living  Edward's  throne.      100 

69 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  Gloucester,  Buckingham,  Derby,  Hastings, 
and  Ratcliif. 

Glou.  Madam,  have  comfort :  all  of  us  have  cause 
To  wail  the  dimming  of  our  shining  star ; 
But  none  can  cure  their  harms  by  wailing  them. 
Madam,  my  mother,  I  do  cry  you  mercy ; 
I  did  not  see  your  grace :  humbly  on  my  knee 
I  crave  your  blessing. 

Diich.  God  bless  thee,  and  put  meekness  in  thy  mind, 
Love,  charity,  obedience,  and  true  duty ! 

Glou.   [Aside]  Amen;   and  make  me  die  a  good  old  man! 
That  is  the  butt-end  of  a  mother's  blessing :  i  lo 

I  marvel  why  her  grace  did  leave  it  out. 

Btick.  You  cloudy  princes  and  heart-sorrowing  peers, 
That  bear  this  mutual  heavy  load  of  moan. 
Now  cheer  each  other  in  each  other's  love : 
Though  we  have  spent  our  harvest  of  this  king, 
We  are  to  reap  the  harvest  of  his  son. 
The  broken  rancour  of  your  high-swoln  hearts, 
But  lately  splinter'd,  knit  and  join'd  together, 
]\Iust  gently  be  preserved,  cherish'd,  and  kept : 
Me  seemeth  good,  that,  with  some  little  train,        120 
Forthwith  from  Ludlow  the  young  prince  be  fetch' d 
Hither  to  London,  to  be  crown'd  our  king. 

Riv.  Why  with  some  little  train,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham  ? 

Buck.  Marr}%  my  lord,  lest,  by  a  multitude. 

The  new-heal'd  w^ound  of  malice  should  break  out ; 
Which  would  be  so  much  the  more  dangerous, 
By  how  much  the  estate  is  green  and  yet  ungovern'd : 
Where  every  horse  bears  his  commanding  rein, 
And  may  direct  his  course  as  please  himself, 

70 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

As  well  the  fear  of  harm  as  harm  apparent,  130 

In  my  opinion,  ought  to  be  prevented. 

Glou.  I  hope  the  king  made  peace  with  all  of  us  ; 
And  the  compact  is  firm  and  true  in  me. 

Riv.  And  so  in  me ;  and  so,  I  think,  in  all : 
Yet,  since  it  is  but  green,  it  should  be  put 
To  no  apparent  likelihood  of  breach, 
Which  haply  by  much  company  might  be  urged : 
Therefore  I  say  with  noble  Buckingham, 
That  it  is  meet  so  few  should  fetch  the  prince. 

Hast.  And  so  say  I.  140 

Glou.  Then  be  it  so ;  and  go  we  to  determine 

Who  they  shall  be  that  straight  shall  post  to  Ludlow. 

Madam,  and  you,  my  mother,  will  you  go 

To  give  vour  censures  in  this  weighty  business? 

Q.Elh 


With  all  our  hearts. 
Duck. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Buckingham  and  Gloucester. 
Buck.  My  lord,  whoever  journeys  to  the  prince, 

For  God's  sake,  let  not  us  two  stay  behind ; 

For,  by  the  way,  I  '11  sort  occasion, 

As  index  to  the  story  we  late  talk'd  of, 

To  part  the  queen's  proud  kindred  from  the  king. 
Glou.  My  other  self,  my  counsel's  consistory,  151 

My  oracle,  my  prophet ! — My  dear  cousin, 

I,  like  a  child,  will  go  by  thy  direction. 

Towards  Ludlow  then,  for  we  '11  not  stay  behind. 

[Exeunt. 


71 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  III. 

London.    A  street. 

Enter  two  Citiccns,  meeting. 

First  Cit.  Neighbour,  well  met :  whither  away  so  fast  ? 
Sec.  Cit.  I  promise  you,  I  scarcely  know  myself : 

Hear  you  the  news  abroad  ? 
First  Cit.  Ay,  that  the  king  is  dead. 

Sec.  Cit.  Bad  news,  by  t  lady,  seldom  comes  the  better : 

I  fear,  I  fear,  'twill  prove  a  troublous  world. 

Enter  another  Citizen. 

Third  Cit.  Neighbours,  God  speed  ! 

First  Cit.  Give  you  good  morrow,  sir. 

Third  Cit.  Doth  this  news  hold  of  good  King  Edward's 
death  ? 

Sec.  Cit.  Ay,  sir,  it  is  too  true  ;   God  help  the  while ! 

Third  Cit.  Then,  masters,  look  to  see  a  troublous  world. 

First  Cit.  No,  no ;    by  God's  good  grace  his   son  shall 
reign.  lo 

Third  Cit.  Woe  to  that  land  that 's  govern' d  by  a  child ! 

Sec.  Cit.  In  him  there  is  a  hope  of  government, 
That  in  his  nonage  council  under  him. 
And  in  his  full  and  ripen'd  years  himself, 
No  doubt,  shall  then  and  till  then  govern  well. 

First  Cit.   So  stood  the  state  when  Henry  the  Sixth 
Was  crown'd  in  Paris  but  at  nine  months  old. 

Third  Cit.   Stood  the   state   so?     No,   no,   good   friends, 
God  wot ; 
For  then  this  land  was  famously  enrich'd 
With  politic  grave  counsel :   then  the  king  20 

Had  virtuous  uncles  to  protect  his  grace, 

7^ 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

First  Cit.  Why,  so  hath  this,  both  by  the  father  and  mother. 

Third  Cit.  Better  it  were  they  all  came  by  the  father, 
Or  by  the  father  there  were  none  at  all ; 
For  emulation  now,  who  shall  be  nearest, 
Will  touch  us  all  too  near,  if  God  i^revent  not. 
O,  full  of  danger  is  the  Duke  of  Gloucester ! 
And  the  queen's  sons  and  brothers  haught  and  proud  : 
And  were  they  to  be  ruled,  and  not  to  rule. 
This  sickly  land  might  solace  as  before.  30 

First  Cit.  Come,  come,  we  fear  the  worst ;    all  shall  be 
well. 

Third  Cit.  When  clouds  appear,  wise  men  put  on  their 
cloaks ; 
When  great  leaves  fall,  the  winter  is  at  hand  ; 
When  the  sun  sets,  who  doth  not  look  for  night  ? 
Untimely  storms  make  men  expect  a  dearth. 
All  may  be  well ;  but,  if  God  sort  it  so, 
'Tis  more  than  we  deserve,  or  I  expect. 

Sec.  Cit.  Truly,  the  souls  of  men  are  full  of  dread : 
Ye  cannot  reason  almost  with  a  man 
That  looks  not  heavily  and  full  of  fear.  40 

'Third  Cit.  Before  the  times  of  change,  still  is  it  sc  : 
By  a  divine  instinct  men's  minds  mistrust 
Ensuing  dangers ;   as,  by  proof,  we  see 
The  waters  swell  before  a  boisterous  storm 
But  leave  it  all  to  God.    Whither  away  ? 

Sec.  Cit.  ]\Iarry,  we  were  sent  for  to  the  justices. 

Third  Cit.  And  so  was  I :   I  '11  bear  you  company. 

[ExeiDit. 


73 


Act  li.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  IV. 

London.    The  palace. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  York,  the  young  Duke  of  York, 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the  Duchess  of  York. 

Arch.  Last  night,  I  hear,  they  lay  at  Northampton ; 

At  Stony-Stratford  will  they  be  to-night : 

To-morrow,  or  next  day,  they  will  be  here. 
Duch.  I  long  with  all  my  heart  to  see  the  prince : 

I  hope  he  is  much  grown  since  last  I  saw  him. 
Q.  Eli;!:.  But  I  hear,  no ;   they  say  my  son  of  York 

Hath  almost  overta'en  him  in  his  growth. 
York.  Ay,  mother ;  but  I  would  not  have  it  so. 
Duch.  Why,  my  young  cousin,  it  is  good  to  grow. 
York.  Grandam,  one  night,  as  we  did  sit  at  supper,         lo 

My  uncle  Rivers  talk'd  how  I  did  grow 

IMore    than    my    brother :    '  Ay,'    quoth    my    uncle 
Gloucester, 

'  Small    herbs  "have   grace,    great    weeds    do    grow 
apace : ' 

And  since,  methinks,  I  would  not  grow  so  fast, 

Because   sweet   flowers   are   slow   and   weeds   make 
haste. 
Duch.  Good  faith,  good  faith,  the  saying  did  not  hold 

In  him  that  did  object  the  same  to  thee: 

He  was  the  wretched'st  thing  when  he  was  young. 

So  long  a-growing  and  so  leisurely. 

That,  if  this  rule  were  true,  he  should  be  gracious. 
Arch.  Why,  madam,  so,  no  doubt,  he  is.  21 

Duch.  I  hope  so  too ;  but  yet  let  mothers  doubt. 
York,  Now,  by  my  troth,  if  I  had  been  remember'd, 

74 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  11.  Sc.  iv. 

I  could  have  given  my  uncle's  grace  a  flout, 

To  touch  his  growth  nearer  than  he  touch'd  mine. 

Duch.  How,     my    pretty    York?     I    pray    thee,    let    me 
hear  it. 

York.  Marry,  they  say  my  uncle  grew  so  fast 
That  he  could  gnaw  a  crust  at  two  hours  old : 
'Twas  full  two  years  ere  I  could  get  a  tooth. 
Grandam,  this  would  have  been  a  biting  jest.  30 

Duch.  I  pray  thee,  pretty  York,  who  told  thee  this? 

York.  Grandam,  his  nurse. 

Duch.  His   nurse!     why,    she   was    dead   ere   thou    wert 
born. 

York.  If  'twere  not  she,  I  cannot  tell  who  told  me. 

Q.  Eliz.  A  parlous  boy  :   go  to,  you  are  too  shrewd. 

Arch.  Good  madam,  be  not  angry  with  the  child. 

Q.  Eliz.  Pitchers  have  ears.      ^^^^f 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Arch.  Here  comes  a  messenger.    What  news  ? 

Mess.  Such  news,  my  lord,  as  grieves  me  to  unfold. 

Q.  Eliz.  How  fares  the  prince? 

Mess.  Well,  madam,  and  in  health. 

Duch.  What  is  thy  news  then  ?  41 

Mess.  Lord  Rivers  and  Lord  Grey  are  sent  to  Pomfret, 

With  them  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  prisoners. 
Duch.  Who  hath  committed  them? 
Mess.  The  mighty  dukes, 

Gloucester  and  Buckingham. 
Q.  Eliz.  For  what  offence  ? 

Mess.  The  sum  of  all  I  can,  I  have  disclosed ; 

Why  or  for  what  these  nobles  were  committed 

Is  all  unknown  to  me,  my  gracious  lady. 

75 


Act  11.  Sc.  IV.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Q.  Eli.c.  Ay  me,  I  see  the  downfall  of  our  house ! 

The  tiger  now  hath  seized  the  gentle  hind  ;  50 

Insulting  tyranny  begins  to  jet 

Upon  the  innocent  and  aweless  throne : 

A\'elcome,  destruction,  death,  and  massacre ! 

I  see,  as  in  a  map,  the  end  of  all. 

Ditch.  x\ccursed  and  unquiet  wrangling  days, 
How  many  of  you  have  mine  eyes  beheld ! 
My  husband  lost  his  life  to  get  the  crown  ; 
And  often  up  and  dow^n  my  sons  were  toss'd. 
For  me  to  joy  and  weep  their  gain  and  loss : 
And  being  seated,  and  domestic  broils  60 

Clean  over-blown,  themselves,  the  conquerors, 
Make  war  upon  themselves ;   blood  against  blood, 
Self  against  self :   O,  preposterous 
And  frantic  outrage,  end  thy  damned  spleen  ; 
Or  let  me  die,  to  look  on  death  no  more ! 

Q.  Eliz.  Come,  come,  my  boy ;   we  will  to  sanctuary. 
Madam,  farewell. 

Duch.  I'll  go  along  with  you. 

Q.  Elijj.  You  have  no  cause. 

Arch.  My  gracious  lady,  go ; 

And  thither  bear  your  treasure  and  your  goods. 
For  my  part,  I  '11  resign  unto  your  grace  70 

The  seal  I  keep :  and  so  betide  to  me 
As  well  I  tender  you  and  all  of  yours ! 
Come,  I  '11  conduct  you  to  the  sanctuary.       [Exeunt. 


76 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

London.    A  street. 

The  trumpets  sound.  Enter  the  young  Prince,  the  Dukes 
of  Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  Cardinal  Bourchier, 
Catesby,  and  others. 

Buck.  Welcome,  sweet  prince, to  London,  to  your  chamber. 

Glou.  Welcome,  dear  cousin,  my  thoughts'  sovereign : 
The  weary  way  hath  made  you  melancholy. 

Prince.  No,  uncle ;  but  our  crosses  on  the  way 
Have  made  it  tedious,  wearisome,  and  heavy : 
I  want  more  uncles  here  to  welcome  me. 

Glou.  Sweet  prince,  the  untainted  virtue  of  your  years 
Hath  not  yet  dived  into  the  world's  deceit : 
Nor  more  can  you  distinguish  of  a  man 
Than  of  his  outward  show ;   which,  God  he  knows. 
Seldom  or  never  jumpeth  with  the  heart.  ii 

Those  uncles  which  you  want  were  dangerous ; 
Your  grace  attended  to  their  sugar'd  words, 
Biit  look'd  not  on  the  poison  of  their  hearts : 
God  keep  you  from  them,  and  from  such  false  friends  ! 

Prince.  God  keep  me  from  false  friends!   but^they  were 
none. 

Glou.  My  lord,  the  mayor  of  London  comes  to  greet  you. 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  his  train. 

May.  God  bless  your  grace  with  health  and  happy  days  ! 
Prince.  I  thank  you,  good  my  lord ;   and  thank  you  all. 
I  thought  my  mother  and  my  brother  York  20 

77 


Act  IIL  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Would  long  ere  this  have  met  us  on  the  way : 
Fie,  what  a  slug  is  Hastings,  that  he  comes  not 
To  tell  us  whether  they  will  come  or  no ! 

Enter  Lord  Hastings. 

Buck.  And,  in  good  time  here  comes  the  sweating  lord. 

Prince.  Welcome,  my  lord :   what,  will  our  mother  come  ? 

Hast.  On  what  occasion,  God  he  knows,  not  I, 
The  queen  your  mother  and  your  brother  York 
Have  taken  sanctuary :   the  tender  prince 
W^ould  fain  have  come  with  me  to  meet  your  grace, 
But  by  his  mother  was  perforce  withheld.  30 

Buck.   Fie,  what  an  indirect  and  peevish  course 

Is  this  of  hers !    Lord  cardinal,  will  your  grace 
Persuade  the  queen  to  send  the  Duke  of  York 
Unto  his  princely  brother  presently? 
If  she  deny,  Lord  Hastings,  go  with  him, 
And  from  her  jealous  arms  pluck  him  perforce. 

Card.  My  Lord  of  Buckingham,  if  my  weak  oratory 
Can  from  his  mother  win  the  Duke  of  York, 
Anon  expect  him  here ;  but  if  she  be  obdurate 
To  mild  entreaties,  God  in  heaven  forbid  40 

We  should  infringe  the  holy  privilege 
Of  blessed  sanctuary !   not  for  all  this  land 
Would  I  be  guilty  of  so  deep  a  sin. 

Buck.  You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,  my  lord, 
Too  ceremonious  and  traditional : 
Weigh  it  but  with  the  grossness  of  this  age, 
You  break  not  sanctua'ry  in  seizing  him. 
The  benefit  thereof  is  always  granted 
To  those  whose  dealings  have  deserved  the  place, 
And  those  who  have  the  wit  to  claim  the  place :      50 
78 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

This  prince  hath  neither  claim'd  it  nor  deserved  it ; 

And  therefore,  in  mine  opinion,  cannot  have  it : 

Then,  taking  him  from  thence  that  is  not  there. 

You  break  no  privilege  nor  charter  there. 

Oft  have  I  heard  of  sanctuary  men ; 

But  sanctuary  children  ne'er  till  now. 
Card,  My  lord,  you  shall  o'er-rule  my  mind  for  once. 

Come  on.  Lord  Hastings,  will  you  go  with  me  ? 
Hast.  I  go,  my  lord. 

Prince.  Good  lords,  make  all  the  speedy  haste  you  may. 

[Exeunt  Cardinal  and  Hastings. 

Say,  uncle  Gloucester,  if  our'brother  come,  6i 

Where  shall  we  sojourn  till  our  coronation? 
Glon.  Where  it  seems  best  unto  your  royal  self. 

If  I  may  counsel  you,  some  day  or  two 

Your  highness  shall  repose  you  at  the  Tower : 

Then  where  you  please,  and  shall  be  thought  most  fit 

For  your  best  health  and  recreation. 
Prince.  I  do  not  like  the  Tower,  of  any  place. 

Did  Julius  Caesar  build  that  place,  my  lord? 
Buck.  He  did,  my  gracious  lord,  begin  that  place  ;  70 

Which,  since,  succeeding  ages  have  re-edified. 
Prince.  Is  it  upon  record,  or  else  reported 

Successively  from  age  to  age,  he  built  it  ? 
Buck.  Upon  record,  my  gracious  lord. 
Prince.  But  say,  my  lord,  it  were  not  register'd, 

Methinks  the  truth  should  live  from  age  to  age, 

As  'twere  retail'd  to  all  posterity. 

Even  to  the  general  all-ending  day. 
Clou.    [Aside]  So  wise  so  young,  they  say,  do  never  live 

long. 
Prince.  What  sav  vou,  uncle?  80 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

GloiL  I  say,  without  characters,  fame  Hves  long. 

[Aside]  Thus,  Uke  the  formal  vice.  Iniquity, 

I  moralize  two  meanings  in  one  word. 
Prince.  That  Julius  Caesar  was  a  famous  man ; 

With  what  his  valour  did  enrich  his  wit. 

His  wit  set  down  to  make  his  valour  live : 

Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror ; 

For  now  he  lives  in  fame,  though  not  in  life. 

I  '11  tell  you  what,  my  cousin  Buckingham, — 
Buck.  What,  my  gracious  lord?  90 

Prince.  An  if  I  live  until  I  be  a  man, 

I  '11  win  our  ancient  right  in  France  again, 

Or  die  a  soldier,  as  I  lived  a  king. 
Glou.    [Aside]    Short   summers   lightly  have  a   forward 
spring. 

Enter  young  York,  Hastings,  and  the  Cardinal. 

Buck.  Now,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  Duke  of  York. 

Prince.  Richard  of  York!   how  fares  our  loving  brother? 

York.  Well,  my  dread  lord ;   so  must  I  call  you  now. 

Prince.  Ay,  brother,  to  our  grief,  as  it  is  yours : 
Too  late  he  died  that  might  have  kept  that  title, 
Which  by  his  death  hath  lost  much  majesty.  100 

Glou.  How  fares  our  cousin,  noble  Lord  of  York? 

York.  I  thank  you,  gentle  uncle.     O,  my  lord. 
You  said  that  idle  wxeds  are  fast  in  growth : 
The  prince  my  brother  hath  outgrown  me  far. 

Glou.  He  hath,  my  lord. 

York.  And  therefore  is  he  idle? 

Glou.  O,  my  fair  cousin,  I  must  not  say  so. 

York.  Then  he  is  more  beholding  to  you  than  I. 

Glou.  He  may  command  me  as  mv  sovereign ; 
But  you  have  power  in  ^^^^^  '!^^  in  a  kinsman. 

80 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

York.  I  pray  you,  uncle,  give  me  this  dagger.  no 

G.lou.  My  dagger,  little  cousin  ?   with  all  my  heart. 
Prince.  A  beggar,  brother  ? 
York.  Of  my  kind  uncle,  that  I  know  will  give; 

And  being  but  a  toy,  which  is  no  grief  to  give. 
Glou.  A  greater  gift  than  that  I  '11  give  my  cousin. 
York.  A  greater  gift !     O,  that 's  the  sword  to  it. 
Glou.  Ay,  gentle  cousin,  were  it  light  enough. 
Yo?'k.  O,  then,  I  see,  you  will  part  but  with  light  gifts 

In  weightier  things  you  '11  say  a  beggar  nay. 
Glou.  It  is  too  heavy  for  your  grace  to  wear.  120 

York.  I  weigh  it  lightly,  were  it  heavier. 
Glou.  What,  would  you  have  my  weapon,  little  lord? 
York.  I  would,  that  I  might  thank  you  as  you  call  me. 
Glou.  How?  • 

York.  Little. 
Prince.  'My  Lord  of  York  wdll  still  be  cross  in  talk : 

Uncle,  your  grace  knows  how  to  bear  with  him. 
York.  You  mean,  to  bear  me,  not  to  bear  with  me : 

Uncle,  my  brother  mocks  both  you  and  me ; 

Because  that  I  am  little,  like  an  ape,  130 

He  thinks  that  you  should  bear  me  on  your  shoulders. 
Buck.  With  what  a  sharp-provided  wit  he  reasons! 

To  mitigate  the  scorn  he  gives  his  uncle. 

He  prettily  and  aptly  taunts  himself : 

So  cunning  and  so  young  is  wonderful. 
Glou.  My  lord,  will  't  please  you  pass  along? 

Myself  and  my  good  cousin  Buckingham 

Will  to  your  mother,  to  entreat  of  her 

To  meet  you  at  the  Tower  and  welcome  you. 
York.  What,  will  you  go  unto  the  Tower,  my  lord?      140 
Prince.  My  lord  protector  needs  will  have  it  so. 

81 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

York.  I  shall  not  sleep  in  quiet  at  the  Tower, 

Gloii.  Why,  what  should  you  fear? 

York.  Marry,  my  uncle  Clarence'  angry  ghost : 
My  grandam  told  me  he  was  murder'd  there. 

Prince.  I  fear  no  uncles  dead. 

Glou.  ^  Nor  none  that  live,  I  hope. 

Prince.  An  if  they  live,  I  hope  I  need  not  fear. 
But  come,  my  lord ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart, 
Thinking  on  them,  go  I  unto  the  Tower.  150 

[A  Sennet.     Exeunt  all  but  Gloucester, 
Buckingham  and  Catesby. 

Buck.  Think  you,  my  lord,  this  little  prating  York 
Was  not  incensed  by  his  subtle  mother 
To  taunt  and  scorn  you  thus  opprobriously  ? 

Glou.  No  doubt,  no  doubt :  O,  'tis  a  parlous  boy ; 
Bold,  quick,  ingenious,  forward,  capable : 
He  is  all  the  mother's,  from  the  top  to  toe. 

Buck.  Well,  let  them  rest.     Come  hither,  Catesby. 

Thou  art  sworn  as  deeply  to  effect  what  we  intend. 

As  closely  to  conceal  what  we  impart : 

Thou  know'st  our  reasons  urged  upon  the  way ;    160 

What  think'st  thou  ?  is  it  not  an  easy  matter 

To  make  William  Lord  Hastings  of  our  mind, 

For  the  instalment  of  this  noble  duke 

In  the  seat  royal  of  this  famous  isle  ? 

Gate.  He  for  his  father's  sake  so  loves  the  prince, 
That  he  will  not  be  won  to  aught  against  him. 

Buck.  Wliat  think'st  thou  then  of  Stanley  ?  what  will  he  ? 

Gate.  He  will  do  all  in  all  as  Hastings  doth. 

Buck.  Well,  then,  no  more  but  this :  go,  gentle  Catesby, 
And,  as  it  were  far  off,  sound  thou  Lord  Hastings, 
How  he  doth  stand  affected  to  our  purpose  ;  171 

82 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

And  summon  him  to-morrow  to  the  Tower, 

To  sit  about  the  coronation. 

If  thou  dost  find  him  tractable  to  us, 

Encourage  him,  and  show  him  all  our  reasons : 

If  he  be  leaden,  icy-cold,  unwilling, 

Be  thou  so  too ;   and  so  break  off  your  talk, 

And  give  us  notice  of  his  inclination : 

For  we  to-morrow  hold  divided  councils. 

Wherein  thyself  shalt  highly  be  employ'd.  i8o 

Glou.  Commend  me  to  Lord  William  :  tell  him,  Catesby, 
His  ancient  knot  of  dangerous  adversaries 
To-morrow  are  let  blood  at  Pomfret-castle ; 
And  bid  my  friend,  for  joy  of  this  good  news, 
Give  Mistress  Shore  one  gentle  kiss  the  more. 

Buck.  Good  Catesby,  go,  effect  this  business  soundly. 

Gate.  My  good  lords  both,  with  all  the  heed  I  may. 

Glou.  Shall  we  hear  from  you,  Catesby,  ere  we  sleep  ? 

Gate.  You  shall,  my  lord. 

Glou.  At  Crosby  Place,  there  shall  you  find  us  both.      190 

[Exit  Gatesby. 

Buck.  Now,  my  lord,  what  shall  we  do,  if  we  perceive 
Lord  Hastings  will  not  yield  to  our  complots? 

Glou.  Chop  off  his  head,  man ;   somewhat  we  will  do: 
And,  look,  when  I  am  king,  claim  thou  of  me 
The  earldom  of  Hereford,  and  the  moveables 
Whereof  the  king  my  brother  stood  possess'd. 

Buck.  I  '11  claim  that  prom.ise  at  your  grace's  hands. 

Glou.  And  look  to  have  it  yielded  with  all  willingness. 
Come,  let  us  sup  betimes,  that  afterwards 
We  may  digest  our  complots  in  some  form.  200 

[Exeunt. 


33 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  II. 

Before  Lord  Hastings'  house. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  What,  ho !   my  lord ! 

Hast.    [Within]   Who  knocks  at  the  door? 

Mess.  A  messenger  from  the  Lord  Stanley. 

Enter  Lord  Hastings. 

Hast.  What  is  't  o'clock  ? 

Mess.  Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

Hast.  Cannot  thy  master  sleep  these  tedious  nights  ? 

Mess.  So  it  should  seem  by  that  I  have  to  say. 

First,  he  commends  him  to  your  noble  lordship. 

Hast.  And  then  ? 

Mess.  And  then  he  sends  you  word  lo 

He  dreamt  to-night  the  boar  had  razed  his  helm : 
Besides,  he  says  there  are  two  councils  held ; 
And  that  may  be  determined  at  the  one 
Which  may  make  you  and  him  to  rue  at  the  other. 
Therefore  he  sends  to  know  your  lordship's  pleasure, 
If  presently  you  will  take  horse  with  him. 
And  with  all  speed  post  with  him  toward  the  north, 
To  shun  the  danger  that  his  soul  divines. 

Hast.  Go,  fellow,  go,  return  unto  thy  lord ; 

Bid  him  not  fear  the  separated  councils :  20 

His  honour  and  myself  are  at  the  one, 

And  at  the  other  is  my  servant  Catesby ; 

Where  nothinpf  can  proceed  that  toucheth  us, 

Whereof  I  shall  not  have  intelligence. 

Tell  him  his  fears  are  shallow,  wanting  instance : 

And  for  his  dreams,  I  wonder  he  is  so  fond 

84 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

To  trust  the  mockery  of  unquiet  slumbers : 
To  fly  the  boar  before  the  boar  pursues, 
Were  to  incense  the  boar  to  follow  us, 
And  make  pursuit  where  he  did  mean  no  chase.      30 
Go,  bid  thy  master  rise  and  come  to  me ; 
And  we  will  both  together  to  the  Tower, 
Where,  he  shall  see,  the  boar  will  use  us  kindly. 
Mess.  IMy  gracious  lord,  I  '11  tell  him  what  you  sav. 

'  [Exit. 
Enter  Catcshy. 

Gate.  Many  good  morrows  to  my  noble  lord ! 

Hast.  Good  morrow,  Catesby  ;  you  are  early  stirring : 
\Miat  news,  what  news,  in  this  our  tottering  state  ? 

Cate.  It  is  a  reeling  world  indeed,  my  lord ; 
And  I  believe  'twill  never  stand  upright 
Till  Richard  wear  the  garland  of  the  realm.  40 

Hast.  How !     wear   the   garland !     dost   thou   mean    the 
crown  ? 

Cate,  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Hast.  I  '11  have  this  crown  of  mine  cut  from  my  shoulders. 
Ere  I  will  see  the  crown  so  foul  misplaced. 
But  canst  thou  guess  that  he  doth  aim  at  it  ? 

Cate.  Ay,  on  my  life,  and  hopes  to  find  you  forward 
Upon  his  party  for  the  gain  thereof : 
And  thereupon  he  sends  you  this  good  news. 
That  this  same  very  day  your  enemies. 
The  kindred  of  the  queen,  must  die  at  Pomfret.      50 

Hast.  Indeed,  I  am  no  mourner  for  that  news, 
Because  they  have  been  still  mine  enemies  : 
But,  that  I  '11  give  my  voice  on  Richard's  side. 
To  bar  my  master's  heirs  in  true  descent, 
God  knows  I  will  not  do  it,  to  the  death. 

C  ate.  God  keep  your  lordship  in  that  gracious  mind ! 

85 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Hast.  But  I  shall  laugh  at  this  a  twelve-month  hence, 
That  they  who  brought  me  in  my  master's  hate, 
I  live  to  look  upon  their  tragedy. 
I  tell  thee,  Catesby, —  60 

Catc.  What,  my  lord? 

Hast.  Ere  a  fortnight  make  me  elder, 

I  '11  send  some  packing  that  yet  think  not  on  it. 

Cate.  'Tis  a  vile  thing  to  die,  my  gracious  lord, 

When  men  are  unprepared  and  look  not  for  it. 

Hast.  O  monstrous,  monstrous !   and  so  falls  it  out 
With  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey :  and  so  'twill  do 
With  some  men  else,  who  think  themselves  as  safe 
As  thou  and  I ;   who,  as  thou  know'st,  are  dear 
To  princely  Richard  and  to  Buckingham.  70 

Cate.  The  princes  both  make  high  account  of  you ; 

[Aside]    For  they  account  his  head  upon  the  bridge. 

Hast.  I  know  they  do ;  and  I  have  well  deserved  it. 

Enter  Lord  Stanley. 

Come  on,  come  on ; "  where  is  your  boar-spear,  man  ? 

Fear  you  the  boar,  and  go  so  unprovided  ? 
Stan.  My  lord,  good  morrow ;   good  morrow,  Catesby ; 

You  may  jest  on,  but,  by  the  holy  rood, 

I  do  not  like  these  several  councils,  I. 
Hast.  My  lord, 

I  hold  my  life  as  dear  as  you  do  yours ;  80 

And  never  in  my  life,  I  do  protest, 

Was  it  more  precious  to  me  than  'tis  now : 

Think  you,  but  that  I  know  our  state  secure, 

I  would  be  so  triumphant  as  I  am  ? 
Stan.  The  lords  at  Pomf ret,  when  they  rode  from  London, 

Were  jocund  and  supposed  their  state  was  sure, 

86 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

And  they  indeed  had  no  cause  to  mistrust  ; 

But  yet,  you  see,  how  soon  the  day  o'ercast. 

This  sudden  stab  of  rancour  I  misdoubt : 

Pray  God,  I  say,  I  prove  a  needless  coward !  90 

What,  shall  we  toward  the  Tower?  the  day  is  spent. 
Hast.  Come,  come,  have  with  you.     \\'ot  vou  what,  mv 
lord? 

To-day  the  lords  you  talk  of  are  beheaded. 
Stan.  They,  for  their  truth,  might  better  wear  their  heads, 

Than  some  that  have  accused  them  wear  their  hats. 

But  come,  my  lord,  let  us  away. 

Enter  a  Pursuivant. 

Hast.  Go  on  before ;   I  '11  talk  with  this  good  fellow. 

[Exeunt  Stanley  and  Catesby. 
How  now,  sirrah !   how  goes  the  world  with  thee  ? 

Purs.  The  better  that  your  lordship  please  to  ask. 

Hast.  I  tell  thee,  man,  'tis  better  with  me  now,  100 

Than  when  I  met  thee  last  where  now  we  meet : 
Then  was  I  going  prisoner  |p  the  Tower, 
By  the  suggestion  of  the  queen's  allies ; 
But  now,  I  tell  thee — keep  it  to  thyself — 
This  day  those  enemies  are  put  to  death, 
And  I  in  better  state  than  e'er  I  was. 

Purs.  God  hold  it,  to  your  honour's  good  content ! 

Hast.  Gramercy,  fellow :   there,  drink  that  for  me. 

[Throzi's  him  his  purse. 

Purs.  God  save  your  lordship.  [Exit. 

Enter  a  Priest. 

Priest.  Well  met,  my  lord  ;  I  am  glad  to  see  your  honour. 
Hast,  I  thank  thee,  good  Sir  John,  with  all  my  heart.  1 1 1 

8; 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I  am  in  your  debt  for  your  last  exercise ; 
Come  the  next  Sabbath,  and  I  will  content  you. 

[He  whispers  in  his  ear. 

Enter  Buckingham. 

Buck.  What,  talking  with  a  priest,  lord  Chamberlain? 

Your  friends  at  Pomfret,  they  do  need  the  priest ; 

Your  honour  hath  no  shriving  work  in  hand. 
Hast.  Good  faith,  and  when  I  met  this  holy  man, 

Those  men  you  talk  of  came  into  my  mind. 

What,  go  you  toward  the  Tower  ? 
Buck.  I  do,  my  lord  ;  but  long  I  shall  not  stay :  120 

I  shall  return  before  your  lordship  thence. 
Hast.  ^Tis  like  enough,  for  I  stay  dinner  there. 
Buck.    [Aside]   And  supper  too,  although  thou  know'st 
it  not. 

Come,  will  you  go? 
Hast.  I  '11  wait  upon  your  lordship. 

[Exeunt. 
Scene  III. 

Pomfret  Castle. 

Enter  Sir  Richard  RatcUff,  zvith  halberds,  carrying 
Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan  to  death. 

Rat.  Come,  bring  forth  the  prisoners. 

Riv.  Sir  Richard  Ratcliff ,  let  me  tell  thee  this : 

To-day  shalt  thou  behold  a  subject  die 

For  truth,  for  duty,  and  for  loyalty. 
Grey.  God  keep  the  prince  from  all  the  pack  of  you ! 

A  knot  you  are  of  damned  blood-suckers. 
Vaug.  You  live  that  shall  cry  woe  for  this  hereafter. 
Rat.  Dispatch  ;  the  limit  of  your  lives  is  out. 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Riv,  O  Pomfret,  Pomf ret !     O  thou  bloody  prison, 

Fatal  and  ominous  to  noble  peers !  lo 

Within  the  guilty  closure  of  thy  walls 
Richard  the  second  here  was  hack'd  to  death; 
And,  for  more  slander  to  thy  dismal  seat. 
We  give  thee  up  our  guiltless  blood  to  drink. 

Grey.  Now  Margaret's  curse  is  fall'n  upon  our  heads, 
For  standing  by  when  Richard  stabb'd  her  son. 

Riv.  Then  cursed  she  Hastings,  then  cursed  she  Buck- 
ingham, 
Then  cursed  she  Richard.     O,  remember,  God, 
To  hear  her  prayers  for  them,  as  now  for  us ! 
And  for  my  sister  and  her  princely  sons,  20 

Be  satisfied,  dear  God,  with  our  true  blood. 
Which,  as  thou  know'st,  unjustly  must  be  spilt. 

Rat.  Make  haste ;   the  hour  of  death  is  expiate. 

Riv.  Come,  Grey,  come,  Vaughan,  let  us  all  embrace : 
And  take  our  leave,  until  we  meet  in  heaven. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

The  Tozver  of  London. 

Enter  Buckingham,  Derby,  Hastings,  the  Bishop  of  Ely, 
Ratcliff,  Lovel,  ixnth  others,  and  take  their  seats  at 
a  table. 

Hast.  My  lords,  at  once :   the  cause  why  we  are  met 

Is,  to  determine  of  the  coronation. 

In  God's  name,  speak :   when  is  the  royal  day  ? 
Buck.  Are  all  things  fitting  for  that  royal  time  ? 
Der.  It  is,  and  wants  but  nomination. 
Ely.  To-morrow  then  I  judge  a  happy  day. 
Buck.  Who  knows  the  lord  protector's  mind  herein? 

Who  is  most  inward  with  the  noble  duke  ? 

89 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Ely.  Your   grace,    we   think,    should    soonest    know    his 
mind. 

Buck.  Who,  I,  my  lord !     We  know  each  other's  faces. 
But  for  our  hearts,  he  knows  no  more  of  mine        1 1 
Than  I  of  yours ; 

Nor  I  no  more  of  his,  than  you  of  mine. 
Lord  Hastings,  you  and  he  are  near  in  love. 

Ha^t.  I  thank  his  grace,  I  know  he  loves  me  well : 
But,  for  his  purpose  in  the  coronation, 
I  have  not  sounded  him,  nor  he  deliver'd 
His  gracious  pleasure  any  way  therein : 
But  you,  my  noble  lords,  may  name  the  time ; 
And  in  the  duke's  behalf  I  '11  give  my  voice,  20 

Which,  I  presume,  he  '11  take  in  gentle  part. 

Enter  Gloucester. 

^Ely,  Now  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  duke  himself. 

Glou.  My  noble  lords  and  cousins  all,  good  morrow. 
I  have  been  long  a  sleeper ;   but,  I  hope. 
My  absence  doth  neglect  no  great  designs, 
Which  by  my  presence  might  have  been  concluded. 

Buck.   Had  not  you  come  upon  your  cue,  my  lord, 

William  Lord  Hastings  had  pronounced  your  part, — 
I  mean,  your  voice, — for  crowning  of  the  king. 

Glou.  Than  my  Lord  Hastings  no  man  might  be  bolder ; 
His  lordship  knows  me  well,  and  loves  me  well.      31 

Hast.  I  thank  your  grace. 

Glou,  My  Lord  of  Ely ! 

Ely,  My  lord? 

Glou.  When  I  was  last  in  Holbom, 

T  saw  good  strawberries  in  your  garden  there: 
I  do  beseech  you  send  for  some  of  them. 

90 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Ely.  Marry,  and  will,  my  lord,- with  all  my  heart.     [Exit. 

Gloti.  Cousin  of  Buckingham,  a  word  with  you. 

[Drazving  him  aside. 
Catesby  hath  sounded  Hastings  in  our  business, 
And  finds  the  testy  gentleman  so  hot, 
As  he  will  lose  his  head  ere  give  consent  40 

His  master's  son,  as  worshipful  he  terms  it. 
Shall  lose  the  royalty  of  England's  throne. 

Buck.  Withdraw  you  hence,  my  lord,  I  '11  follow  you. 

[Exit  Gloucester,  Buckingham  follozuing. 

Der.  We  have  not  yet  set  down  this  day  of  triumph. 
To-morrow,  in  mine  opinion,  is  too  sudden ; 
For  I  myself  am  not  so  well  provided 
As  else  I  would  be,  were  the  day  prolong'd. 

Re-enter  Bishop  of  Ely. 

Ely.  Where  is  my  lord  protector?     I  have  sent  for 

these  strawberries. 
Hast.  His  grace  looks  cheerfully  and  smooth  to-day ;    50 

There  's  some  conceit  or  other  likes  him  well, 

When  he  doth  bid  good  morrow  with  such  a  spirit. 

I  think  there  's  never  a  man  in  Christendom 

That  can  less  hide  his  love  or  hate  than  he ; 

For  by  his  face  straight  shall  you  know  his  heart. 
Der.  What  of  his  heart  perceive  you  in  his  face 

By  any  likelihood  he  show'd  to-day  ? 
Hast.  Marry,"  that  with  no  man  here  he  is  oflfended  ; 

For,  were  he,  he  had  shown  it  in  his  looks. 
Der,  I  pray  God  He  be  not,  I  say.  60 

Re-enter  Gloucester  and  Buckingham. 

Glou.  I  pray  you  all,  tell  me  what  they  deserve 

91 


Act  111.  Sc.  IV.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  do  conspire  my  death  with  deviUsh  plots 
Of  damned  witchcraft,  and  that  have  prevail'd 
Upon  my  body  with  their  helhsh  charms  ? 

Hast.  The  tender  love  I  bear  your  grace,  my  lord, 
Makes  me  most  forward  in  this  noble  presence 
To  doom  the  offenders,  whatsoever  they  be : 
I  say,  my  lord,  they  have  deserved  death. 

Glou.  Then  be  your  eyes  the  witness  of  this  ill : 

See  how  I  am  bewitch 'd  ;   behold,  mine  arm  70 

Is  like  a  blasted  sapling,  withered  up : 

And  this  is  Edward's  wife,  that  monstrous  witch, 

Consorted  with  that  harlot  strumpet  Shore, 

That  by  their  witchcraft  thus  have  marked  me. 

Hast.  If  they  have  done  this  thing,  my  gracious  lord, — 

Glou.  If!, thou  protector  of  this  damned  strumpet, 
Tellest  thou  me  of  '  ifs  '  ?     Thou  art  a  traitor : 
Off  with  his  head !     Now,  by  Saint  Paul  I  swear, 
I  will  not  dine  until  I  see  the  same. 
Lovel  and  Ratcliff,  look  that  it  be  done :  80 

The  rest  that  love  me,  rise  and  follow  me. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Hastings,  Ratcliff  and  Lovel. 

Hast.  Woe,  woe  for  England !  not  a  whit  for  me ; 
For  I,  too  fond,  might  have  prevented  this. 
Stanley  did  dream  the  boar  did  raze  his  helm ; 
But  I  disdain'd  it,  and  did  scorn  to  fly : 
Three  times  to-day  my  foot-cloth  horse  did  stumble. 
And  startled,  when  he  look'd  upon  the  Tower, 
As  loath  to  bear  me  to  the  slaughter-house. 
O,  now  I  want  the  priest  that  spake  to  me : 
I  now  repent  I  told  the  pursuivant,  90 

As  'twere  triumphing  at  mine  enemies, 
How  they  at  Pomfret  bloodily  were  butcher'd, 
92 


KING  RICHARD  III,  Act  III.  Sc.  v. 

And  I  myself  secure  in  grace  and  favour. 

0  Margaret,  Margaret,  now  thy  heavy  curse 
Is  Hghted  on  poor  Hastings'  wretched  head! 

Rat.  Dispatch,  my  lord ;  the  duke  would  be  at  dinner : 
Make  a  short  shrift ;  he  longs  to  see  your  head. 

Hast.  O  momentary  grace  of  mortal  men, 

Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God ! 
Who  builds  his  hopes  in  air  of  your  fair  looks,      loo 
Lives  like  a  drunken  sailor  on  a  mast. 
Ready,  with  every  nod,  to  tumble  down 
Into  the  fatal  bowels  of  the  deep. 

Lov.  Come,  come,  dispatch  ;   'tis  bootless  to  exclaim. 

Hast.  O  bloody  Richard  !    miserable  England  ! 

1  prophesy  the  fearfull'st  time  to  thee 
That  ever  wretched  age  hath  look'd  upon. 
Come,  lead  me  to  the  block  ;  bear  him  my  head : 
They  smile  at  me  that  shortly  shall  be  dead.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

The  Tower-zvalls. 

Enter  Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  in  rotten  armour, 

marvellous  ill- favoured. 

Glou.  Come,  cousin,  canst  thou  quake,  and  change  thy 
colour, 
Murder  thy  breath  in  middle  of  a  word. 
And  then  begin  again,  and  stop  again. 
As  if  thou  wert  distraught  and  mad  with  terror? 

Buck.  Tut,  I  can  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian, 
Speak  and  look  back,  and  pry  on  every  side, 
Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 
Intending  deep  suspicion  :  ghastly  looks 

9Z 


Act  Hi.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Are  at  my  service,  like  enforced  smiles; 
And  both  are  ready  in  their  offices,  lo 

At  any  time,  to  grace  my  stratagems. 
But  what,  is  Catesby  gone? 
Glou.  He  is ;  and,  see,  he  brings  the  mayor  along. 

Enter  the  Mayor  and  Catesby. 

Buck.  Lord  mayor, — 

Glou.  Look  to  the  drawbridge  there ! 

Buck.  Hark !  a  drum. 

Glou.  Catesby,  o'erlook  the  walls. 

Buck.  Lord  mayor,  the  reason  we  have  sent — 

Glou'.  Look  back,  defend  thee,  here  are  enemies. 

Buck.  God  and  our  innocency  defend  and  guard  us  !      20 

Glou.  Be  patient,  they  are  friends,  Ratcliff  and  Lovel. 

Enter  Lovel  and  Ratcliif,  with  Hastings'  head. 

Lov.  Here  is  the  head  of  that  ignoble  traitor. 
The  dangerous  and  unsuspected  Hastings. 

Glou.  So  dear  I  loved  the  man,  that  I  must  weep. 
I  took  him  for  the  plainest  harmless  creature 
That  breathed  upon  this  earth  a  Christian  ; 
Made  him  my  book,  wherein  my  soul  recorded 
The  history  of  all  her  secret  thoughts : 
So  smooth  he  daub'd  his  vice  with  show  of  virtue 
That,  his  apparent  open  guilt  omitted,  30 

I  mean,  his  conversation  with  Shore's  wife, 
He  lived  from  all  attainder  of  suspect. 

Buck.  Well,  well,  he  was  the  covert'st  shelter'd  traitor 
That  ever  lived. 

Would  you  imagine,  or  almost  believe. 
Were  't  not  that,  by  great  preservation, 

94 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  v. 

We  live  to  tell  it  you,  the  subtle  traitor 

This  day  had  plotted,  in  the  council-house 

To  murder  me  and  my  good  Lord  of  Gloucester? 

May.  What,  had  he  so?  40 

Glou.  What,  think  you  we  are  Turks  or  infidels? 
Or  that  we  would,  against  the  form  of  law, 
Proceed  thus  rashly  to  the  villain's  death. 
But  that  the  extreme  peril  of  the  case. 
The  peace  of  England  and  our  persons'  safety, 
Enforced  us  to  this  execution? 

May.  Now,  fair  befall  you!   he  deserved  his  death; 

And  you,  my  good  lords  both,  have  well  proceeded, 
To  warn  false  traitors  from  the  like  attempts. 
I  never  look'd  for  better  at  his  hands,  50 

After  he  once  fell  in  with  Mistress  Shore. 

Glou.  Yet  had  not  we  determined  he  should  die, 
Until  your  lordship  came  to  see  his  death; 
*  Which  now  the  loving  haste  of  these  our  friends, 
Somewhat  against  our  meaning,  have  prevented: 
Because,  my  lord,  we  woul4  have  had  you  heard 
The  traitor  speak  and  timorously  confess 
The  manner  and  the  purpose  of  his  treason; 
That  you  might  well  have  signified  the  same 
Unto  the  citizens,  who  haply  may  60 

Misconstrue  us  in  him  and  wail  his  death. 

May.  But,  my  good  lord,  your  grace's  word  shall  serve. 
As  well  as  I  had  seen  and  heard  him  speak: 
And  doubt  you  not,  right  noble  princes  both. 
But  I'll  acquaint  our  duteous  citizens 
With  all  your  just  proceedings  in  this  cause. 

Glou.  And  to  that  end  we  wish'd  your  lordship  here, 
To  avoid  the  carping  censures  of  the  world. 

95 


Act  III.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Buck.  But  since  you  come  too  late  of  our  intents, 

Yet  witness  what  you  hear  we  did  intend:  70 

And  so,  my  good  lord  mayor,  we  bid  farewell. 

[Exit  Mayor. 

Glou.  Go,  after,  after,  cousin  Buckingham. 

The  mayor  towards  Guildhall  hies  him  in  all  post: 

There,  at  your  meet'st  advantage  of  the  time, 

Infer  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children: 

Tell  them  how  Edward  put  to  death  a  citizen, 

Only  for  saying  he  would  make  his  son 

Heir  to  the  crown,  meaning  indeed  his  house, 

Which,  by  the  sign  thereof,  was  termed  so. 

Moreover,  urge  his  hateful  luxury  80 

And  bestial  appetite  in  change  of  lust; 

Which  stretched  to  their  servants,  daughters,  wives. 

Even  where  his  lustful  eye  or  savage  heart, 

Without  control,  listed  to  make  his  prey. 

Nay,  for  a  need,  thus  far  come  near  my  person: 

Tell  them,  when  that  my  mother  went  with  child 

Of  that  unsatiate  Edward,  noble  York, 

My  princely  father,  then  had  wars  in  France; 

And,  by  just  computation  of  the  time, 

Found  that  the  issue  was  not  his  begot;  90 

Which  well  appeared  in  his  lineaments, 

Being  nothing  like  the  noble  duke  my  father: 

But  touch  this  sparingly,  as  'twere  far  off; 

Because  you  know,  my  lord,  my  mother  lives. 

Buck.  Fear  not,  my  lord,  I  '11  play  the  orator, 
As  if  the  golden  fee  for  which  I  plead 
Were  for  myself:   and  so,  my  lord,  adieu. 

Glou.  If  you  thrive  well,  bring  them  to  Baynard's  Castle; 
Where  you  shall  find  me  well  accompanied 
06 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  vi. 

With  reverend  fathers  and  well-learned  bishops.  loo 
Buck.  I  go ;  and  towards  three  or  four  o'clock 

Look  for  the  news  that  the  Guildhall  affords.     [Exit. 
Glou.  Go,  Lovel,  with  all  speed  to  Doctor  Shaw ; 

[  To  Gate.  ]   Go  thou  to  Friar  Penker ;  bid  them  both 
Meet  me  within  this  hour  at  Baynard's  Castle. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Gloucester. 
Now  will  I  in,  to  take  some  privy  order. 
To  draw  the  brats  of  Clarence  out  of  sight ; 
And  to  give  notice,  that  no  manner  of  person 
At  any  time  have  recourse  unto  the  princes.     [Exit. 

Scene  VI. 

The  same.     A  street. 

Enter  a  Scrivener,  zvith  a  paper  in  his  hand. 

Scriv.  This  is  the  indictment  of  the  good  Lord  Hastings ; 
Which  in  a  set  hand  fairly  is  engross'd, 
That  it  may  be  this  day  read  o'er  in  Paul's. 
And  mark  how  well  the  sequel  hangs  together : 
Eleven  hours  I  spent  to  write  it  over, 
For  yesternight  by  Catesby  was  it  brought  me  ; 
The  precedent  was  full  as  long  a-doing : 
And  yet  within  these  five  hours  lived  Lord  Hastings, 
Untainted,  unexamined,  free,  at  liberty. 
Here 's  a  good  world  the  while !     Why,  who 's  so 
gross,  lo 

That  seeth  not  this  palpable  device  ? 
Yet  who  's  so  blind,  but  says  he  sees  it  not? 
Bad  is  the  world ;   and  all  will  come  to  nought. 
When  such  bad  dealing  must  be  seen  in  thought. 

[Exit. 

97 


Act  III.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  VII. 

Baynard's  Castle. 
Enter  Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  at  several  doors, 

Glou.  How  now,  my  lord,  what  say  the  citizens  ? 

Buck.  Now,  by  the  holy  mother  of  our  Lord, 

The  citizens  are  mum,  and  speak  not  a  word. 

Glou.  Touch'd  you  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children  ? 

Buck.  I  did ;  with  his  contract  with  Lady  Lucy, 
And  his  contract  by  deputy  in  France ; 
The  insatiate  greediness  of  his  desires. 
And  his  enforcement  of  the  city  wives ; 
His  tyranny  for  trifles  ;   his  own  bastardy, 
As  being  got,  your  father  then  in  France,  10 

And  his  resemblance,  being  not  Hke  the  duke : 
Withal  I  did  infer  your  lineaments. 
Being  the  right  idea  of  your  father, 
Both  in  your  form  and  nobleness  of  mind ; 
Laid  open  all  your  victories  in  Scotland, 
Your  discipline  in  war,  wisdom  in  peace, 
Your  bounty,  virtue,  fair  humility ; 
Indeed  left  nothing  fitting  for  the  purpose 
L^ntouch'd  or  slightly  handled  in  discourse : 
And  when  mine  oratory  grew  to  an  end,  20 

I  bid  them  that  did  love  their  country's  good 
Cry  '  God  save  Richard,  England's  royal  king ! ' 

Glou.  Ah !   and  did  they  so  ? 

Buck.  No,  so  God  help  me,  they  spake  not  a  word ; 
But,  like  dumb  statues  or  breathing  stones, 
Gazed  each  on  other,  and  look'd  deadly  pale. 
Which  when  I  saw,  I  reprehended  them ; 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  viL 

And  ask'd  the  mayor  what  meant  this  wilful  silence: 

His  answer  was,  the  people  were  not  wont 

To  be  spoke  to  but  by  the  recorder.  30 

Then  he  was  urged  to  tell  my  tale  again : 

'  Thus    saith    the    duke,    thus    hath    the    duke    in- 

ferr'd  ' ; 
But  nothing  spake  in  warrant  from  himself. 
When  he  had  done,  some  followers  of  mine  own 
At  the  lower  end  of  the  hall  hurl'd  up  their  caps, 
And  some  ten  voices  cried  '  God  save  King  Rich- 
ard!' 
And  thus  I  took  the  vantage  of  those  few, 
'  Thanks,  gentle  citizens  and  friends!  '  quoth  I, 
*  This  general  applause  and  loving  shout 
Argues  your  wisdoms  and  your  love  to  Richard ; '  40 
And  even'  here  brake  off,  and  came  away. 

Glou.  What  tongueless  blocks  were  they!  would  they  not 
speak? 

Buck.  No,  by  my  troth,  my  lord. 

Gloti.  Will  not  the  mayor  then  and  his  brethren  come? 

Buck.  The  mayor  is  here  at  hand:  intend  some  fear; 
Be  not  you  spoke  with,  but  by  mighty  suit: 
And  look  you  get  a  prayer-book  in  your  hand, 
And  stand  betwixt  two  churchmen,  good  my  lord; 
For  on  that  ground  I  '11  build  a  holy  descant: 
And  be  not  easily  won  to  our  request;  50 

Play  the  maid's  part,  still  answer  nay,  and  take  it. 

Glou.  I  go;   and  if  you  plead  as  well  for  them 
As  I  can  say  nay  to  thee  for  myself, 
No  doubt  we  '11  bring  it  to  a  happy  issue. 

Buck.  Go,  go  up  to  the  leads ;   the  lord  mayor  knocks. 

[Exit  Gloucester. 

99 


Act  III.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  the  Mayor  and  Citizens. 

Welcome,  my  lord:    I  dance  attendance  here; 
I  think  the  duke  will  not  be  spoke  withal. 

Enter  Catesby. 

Here  comes  his  servant:   how  now,  Catesby, 
What  says  he? 

Cate.  My  lord,  he  doth  entreat  your  grace 

To  visit  him  to-morrow  or  next  day:  60 

He  is  within,  with  two  right  reverend  fathers, 
Divinely  bent  to  meditation; 
And  in  no  worldly  suit  would  he  be  moved, 
To  draw  him  from  his  holy  exercise. 

Buck.  Return,  good  Catesby,  to  thy  lord  again  ; 
Tell  him,  myself,  the  mayor  and  citizens,    • 
In  deep  designs  and  matters  of  great  moment, 
No  less  importing  than  our  general  good, 
Are  come  to  have  some  conference  with  his  grace. 

Cate.  I  '11  tell  him  what  you  say,  my  lord.  [Exit.    70 

Buck.  Ah,  ha,  my  lord,  this  prince  is  not  an  Edward! 
He  is  not  lolling  on  a  lewd  day-bed, 
But  on  his  knees  at  m.editation; 
Not  dallying  with  a  brace  of  courtezans. 
But  meditating  with  two  deep  divines; 
Not  sleeping,  to  engross  his  idle  body. 
But  praying,  to  enrich  his  watchful  soul: 
Happy  were  England,  would  this  gracious  prince 
Take  on  himself  the  sovereignty  thereof: 
But,  sure,  I  fear,  we  shall  ne'er  win  him  to  it.        80 

May.  Marry,  God  forbid  his  grace  should  say  us  nay! 

Buck.  I  fear  he  will. 

100 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

Re-enter  Catesby, 

How  now,  Catesby,  what  says  your  lord? 

Cate.  My  lord, 

He  wonders  to  what  end  you  have  assembled 
Such  troops  of  citizens  to  speak  with  him, 
His  grace  not  being  warn'd  thereof  before: 
My  lord,  he  fears  you  mean  no  good  to  him. 

Buck.  Sorry  I  am  my  noble  cousin  should 

Suspect  me,  that  I  mean  no  good  to  him: 

By  heaven,  I  come  in  perfect  love  to  him;  90 

And  so  once  more  return  and  tell  his  grace. 

[Exit  Catesby. 
When  holy  and  devout  religious  men 
Are  at  their  beads,  'tis  hard  to  draw  them  thence, 
So  sweet  is  zealous  contemplation. 

Enter  Gloucester  aloft,  between  two  Bishops. 
Catesby  returns. 

May.  See,  where  he  stands  between  two  clergymen! 
Buck.  Two  props  of  virtue  for  a  Christian  prince. 

To  stay  him  from  the  fall  of  vanity: 

And,  see,  a  book  of  prayer  in  his  hand, 

True  ornaments  to  know  a  holy  man. 

Famous  Plantagenet,  most  gracious  prince,  100 

Lend  favourable  ears  to  our  request; 

And  pardon  us  the  interruption 

Of  thy  devotion  and  right  Christian  zeal. 
Glou.  My  lord,  there  needs  no  such  apology: 

I  rather  do  beseech  you  pardon  me. 

Who,  earnest  in  the  service  of  my  God, 

Neglect  the  visitation  of  my  friends. 

lOI 


Act  HI.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

But,  leaving  this,  what  is  your  grace's  pleasure? 

Btick.  Even  that,  I  hope,  v^hich  pleaseth  God  above, 

And  all  good  men  of  this  ungovern'd  isle.  i  lO 

Glou.  I  do  suspect  I  have  done  some  offence 
That  seems  disgracious  in  the  city's  eyes, 
And  that  you  come  to  reprehend  my  ignorance. 

Btick.  You  have,  my  lord:    would  it  might  please  your 
grace, 
At  our  entreaties,  to  amend  that  fault! 

Glou.  Else  wherefore  breathe  I  in  a  Christian  land? 

Buck.  Then  know,  it  is  your  fault  that  you  resign 
The  supreme  seat,  the  throne  majestical, 
The  scepter'd  ofBce  of  your  ancestors, 
Your  state  of  fortune  and  your  due  of  birth,        120 
The  lineal  glory  of  your  royal  house, 
To  the  corruption  of  a  blemish'd  stock: 
Whilst,  in  the  mildness  of  your  sleepy  thoughts, 
Which  here  we  waken  to  our  country's  good, 
This  noble  isle  doth  want  her  proper  limbs; 
Her  face  defaced  with  scars  of  infamy. 
Her  royal  stock  graft  with  ignoble  plants, 
And  almost  shoulder'd  in  the  swallowing  gulf 
Of  bhnd  forgetfulness  and  dark  oblivion. 
Which  to  recure,  we  heartily  solicit  130 

Your  gracious  self  to  take  on  you  the  charge 
And  kingly  government  of  this  your  land; 
Not  as  protector,  steward,  substitute, 
Or  lowly  factor  for  another's  gain; 
But  as  successively,  from  blood  to  blood, 
Your  right  of  birth,  your  empery,  your  own. 
For  this,  consorted  with  the  citizens. 
Your  very  worshipful  and  loving  friends. 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

And  by  their  vehement  instigation, 
In  this  just  suit  come  I  to  move  your  grace.         140 
Gloii.  I  know  not  whether  to  depart  in  silence, 
Or  bitterly  to  speak  in  your  reproof. 
Best  fitteth  my  degree  or  your  condition: 
If  not  to  answer,  you  might  haply  think 
Tongue-tied  ambition,  not  replying,  yielded 
To  bear  the  golden  yoke  of  sovereignty. 
Which  fondly  you  would  here  impose  on  me; 
If  to  reprove  you  for  this  suit  of  yours 
So  season'd  with  your  faithful  love  to  me, 
Then,  on  the  other  side,  I  check'd  my  friends.       150 
Therefore,  to  speak,  and  to  avoid  the  first, 
And  then,  in  speaking,  not  to  incur  the  last, 
Definitively  thus  I  answer  you. 
Your  love  deserves  my  thanks,  but  my  desert 
Unmeritable  shuns  your  high  request. 
First,  if  all  obstacles  were  cut  away 
And  that  my  path  were  even  to  the  crown, 
As  my  ripe  revenue  and  due  by  birth; 
Yet  so  much  is  my  poverty  of  spirit. 
So  mighty  and  so  many  my  defects,  160 

As  I  had  rather  hide  me  from  my  greatness, 
Being  a  bark  to  brook  no  mighty  sea. 
Than  in  my  greatness  covet  to  be  hid, 
And  in  the  vapour  of  my  glory  smother'd. 
But,  God  be  thanked,  there's  no  need  of  me, 
And  much  I  need  to  help  you,  if  need  were; 
The  royal  tree  hath  left  us  royal  fruit. 
Which,  mellow'd  by  the  stealing  hours  of  time. 
Will  well  become  the  seat  of  majesty, 
And  make,  no  doubt,  us  happy  by  his  reign.         170 
103 


Act  III.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

On  him  I  lay  what  you  would  lay  on  me, 
The  right  and  fortune  of  his  happy  stars; 
Which  God  defend  that  I  should  wring  from  him! 

Buck.  I^Iy  lord,  this  argues  conscience  in  your  grace; 
But  the  respects  thereof  are  nice  and  trivial, 
All  circumstances  well  considered. 
You  say  that  Edward  is  your  brother's  son: 
So  say  we  too,  but  not  by  Edward's  wife; 
For  first  he  was  contract  to  Lady  Lucy — 
Your  mother  lives  a  witness  to  that  vow —  i8o 

And  afterward  by  substitute  betroth'd 
To  Bona,  sister  to  the  King  of  France. 
These  both  put  by,  a  poor  petitioner, 
A  care-crazed  mother  of  a  many  children, 
A  beauty-waning  and  distressed  widow, 
Even  in  the  afternoon  of  her  best  days. 
Made  prize  and  purchase  of  his  lustful  eye, 
Seduced  the  pitch  and  height  of  all  his  thoughts 
To  base  declension  and  loathed  bigamy: 
By  her,  in  his  unlawful  bed,  he  got  190 

This  Edward,  whom  our  manners  term  the  prince. 
More  bitterly  could  I  expostulate, 
Save  that,  for  reverence  to  some  alive, 
I  give  a  sparing  limit  to  my  tongue. 
Then,  good  my  lord,  take  to  your  royal  self 
This  proffer'd  benefit  of  dignity; 
If  not  to  bless  us  and  the  land  withal. 
Yet  to  draw  forth  your  noble  ancestry 
From  the  corruption  of  abusing  times, 
Unto  a  lineal  true-derived  course.  200 

May.  Do,  good  my  lord,  your  citizens  entreat  you. 

Duck,  Refuse  not,  mighty  lord,  this  prof^er'd  love, 

104 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

Gate.  O,  make  them  joyful,  grant  their  lawful  suit! 

Glou.  Alas,  why  would  you  heap  these  cares  on  me? 
I  am  unfit  for  state  and  majesty: 
I  do  beseech  you,  take  it  not  amiss; 
I  cannot  nor  I  will  not  yield  to  you. 

Buck.  If  you  refuse  it, — as,  in  love  and  zeal. 

Loath  to  depose  the  child,  your  brother's  son; 

As  well  we  know  your  tenderness  of  heart  210 

And  gentle,  kind,  effeminate  remorse. 

Which  we  have  noted  in  you  to  your  kin, 

And  egally  indeed  to  all  estates, — 

Yet  whether  you  accept  our  suit  or  no, 

Your  brother's  son  shall  never  reign  our  king; 

But  we  will  plant  some  other  in  the  throne, 

To  the  disgrace  and  downfall  of  your  house : 

And  in  this  resolution  here  we  leave  you. 

Come,  citizens:   'zounds!   I'll  entreat  no  more. 

Glou.  O,  do  not  swear,  my  lord  of  Buckingham.         220 
[Exit  Buckingham  with  the  Citizens. 

Cate.  Call  them  again,  my  lord,  and  accept  their  suit: 

Another.  Do,  good  my  lord,  lest  all  the  land  do  rue  it. 

Glou.  Would  you  enforce  me  to  a  world  of  care? 

Well,  call  them  again.     I  am  not  made  of  stones. 
But  penetrable  to  your  kind  entreats, 
Albeit  against  my  conscience  and  my  soul. 

Re-enter  Buckingham  and  the  rest. 

Cousin  of  Buckingham,  and  you  sage,  grave  men, 

Since  you  will  buckle  fortune  on  my  back, 

To  bear  her  burthen,  whether  I  will  or  no, 

I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load:  230 

But  if  black  scandal  or  foul-faced  reproach 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Attend  the  sequel  of  your  imposition, 
Your  mere  enforcement  shall  acquittance  me 
From  all  the  impure  blots  and  stains  thereof; 
For  God  he  knows,  and  you  may  partly  see, 
How  far  I  am  from  the  desire  thereof. 

May.  God  bless  your  grace!  we  see  it,  and  will  say  it. 

GloiL  In  saying  so,  you  shall  but  say  the  truth. 

Buck.  Then  I  salute  you  with  this  kingly  title: 

Long  live  Richard,  England's  royal  king!  240 

May  and  Cit.  Amen. 

Buck.  To-morrow^  will  it  please  you  to  be  crown'd? 

Glou.  Even  when  you  please,  since  you  will  have  it  so. 

Buck.  To-morrow  then  we  will  attend  your  grace: 
And  so  most  joyfully  we  take  our  leave. 

Glou.  Come,  let  us  to  our  holy  task  again. 

Farewell,  good  cousin;    farewell,  gentle  friends. 

[Exeunt 

ACT  FOURTH. 

Scene  I. 

Before  the  Tower. 

Enter,  on  one  side,  Queen  Elizabeth,  Duchess  of  York, 
and  Marquess  of  Dorset;  on  the  other,  Anne,  Duch- 
ess of  Gloucester,  leading  Lady  Margaret  Plantag- 
enet,  Clarence's  young  daughter. 

Duch.  Who  meets  us  here?  my  niece  Plantagenet 
Led  in  the  hand  of  her  kind  aunt  of  Gloucester? 
Now,  for  my  life,  she  's  wandering  to  the  Tower, 
On  pure  heart's  love  to  greet  the  tender  princes. 
Daughter,  well  met. 

106 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Anne.  God  give  your  graces  both 

A  happy  and  a  joyful  time  of  day ! 
Q.  Eli::.  As  much  to  you,  good  sister !     Whither  away  ? 
Anne.  No  farther  than  the  Tower,  and,  as  I  guess, 
Upon  the  Hke  devotion  as  yourselves, 
To  gratulate  the  gentle  princes  there.  lo 

Q.  Eliz.  Kind  sister,  thanks  :   well  '11  enter  all  together. 

* 
Enter  Brakenbury. 

And,  in  good  time,  here  the  lieutenant  comes. 

Master  lieutenant,  pray  you,  by  your  leave. 

How  doth  the  prince,  and  my  young  son  of  York  ^ 
Brak.  Right  well,  dear  madam.     By  your  patience, 

I  may  not  suffer  you  to  visit  them; 

The  king  hath  straitly  charged  the  contrary. 
Q.  Eliz.  The  king!   why,  who  's  that? 
Brak.  I  cry  you  mercy :   I  mean  the  lord  protector. 
Q.  Eliz.  The  Lord  protect  him  from  that  kingly  title !     20 

Hath  he  set  bounds  betwixt  their  love  and  me  ? 

I  am  their  mother  ;   who  should  keep  me  from  them.  ? 
Duch.  I  am  their  father's  mother;   I  will  see  them. 
Anne.  Their  aunt  I  am  in  law,  in  love  their  mother : 

Then  bring  me  to  their  sights ;   I  '11  bear  thy  blame, 

And  take  thy  office  from  thee,  on  my  peril. 
Brak.  No,  madam,  no ;   I  may  not  leave  it  so : 

I  am  bound  by  oath,  and  therefore  pardon  me.  [Exit. 

Enter  Lord  Stanley. 

Stan.  Let  me  but  meet  you,  ladies,  one  hour  hence, 

And  I  '11  salute  your  grace  of  York  as  mother,        30 
And  reverend  looker  on,  of  two  fair  queens. 
[To  Anne]   Come,    madam,    you    must    straight    to 
Westminster, 

107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

There  to  be  crowned  Richard's  royal  queen. 

Q.  Eli::.  O,  cut  my  lace  in  sunder,  that  my  pent  heart 
May  have  some  scope  to  beat,  or  else  I  swoon 
With  this  dead-killing  news  ! 

Anne.  Despiteful  tidings  !     O  unpleasing  news  ! 

Dor.  Be  of  good  cheer :  mother,  how  fares  your  grace  ? 

Q.  EUz.  O  Dorset,  speak  not  to  me,  get  thee  hence! 

Death  and  destruction  dog  thee  at  the  heels ;  40 

Thy  mother's  name  is  ominous  to  children. 
If  thou  wilt  outstrip  death,  go  cross  the  seas, 
And  live  with  Richmond,  from  the  reach  of  hell : 
Go,  hie  thee,  hie  thee  from  this  slaughter-house. 
Lest  thou  increase  the  number  of  the  dead ; 
And  make  me  die  the  thrall  of  Margaret's  curse, 
Nor  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  counted  queen. 

Stan.  Full  of  wise  care  is  this  your  counsel,  madam. 
Take  all  the  swift  advantage  of  the  hours ; 
You  shall  have  letters  from  me  to  my  son  50 

To  meet  you  on  the  way,  and  welcome  you. 
Be  not  ta'en  tardy  by  unwise  delay. 

Duck.  O  ill-dispersing  wind  of  misery! 

0  my  accursed  womb,  the  bed  of  death ! 

A  cockatrice  hast  thou  hatch'd  to  the  world, 

Whose  unavoided  eye  is  murderous. 
Stan.  Come,  madam,  come;   I  in  all  haste  was  sent. 
Anne.  And  I  in  all  unwillingness  will  go. 

1  would  to  God  that  the  inclusive  verge 

Of  golden  metal  that  must  round  my  brow  60 

Were  red-hot  steel,  to  sear  me  to  the  brain ! 
Anointed  let  me  be  with  deadly  venom. 
And  die,  ere  men  can  say,  God  save  the  queen ! 
Q.  Eliz.  Go,  go,  poor  soul,  I  envy  not  thy  glory ; 

108 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

To  feed  my  humour,  wish  thyself  no  harm. 

Anne.  No!    why?     When  he  that  is  my  husband  now 
Came  to  me,  as  I  foUow'd  Henry's  corse. 
When   scarce  the  blood  was  well  wash'd   from  his 

hands 
Which  issued  from  my  other  angel  husband, 
And  that  dead  saint  which  then  I  weeping  followed ; 
O,  when,  I  say,  I  look'd  on  Richard's  face,  yi 

This  was  my  wish :   '  Be  thou,'  quoth  I,  '  accursed, 
For  making  me,  so  young,  so  old  a  widow ! 
And,  when  thou  wed'st,  let  sorrow  haunt  thy  bed ; 
And  be  thy  wife — if  any  be  so  mad — 
As  miserable  by  the  death  of  thee 
As  thou  hast  made  me  by  my  dear  lord's  death  !  ' 
Lo,  ere  I  can  repeat  this  curse  again, 
Even  in  so  short  a  space,  my  woman's  heart 
Grossly  grew  captive  to  his  honey  words,  80 

And  proved  the  subject  of  my  own  soul's  curse. 
Which  ever  since  hath  kept  my  eyes  from  rest ; 
For  never  yet  one  hour  in  his  bed 
Have  I  enjoy'd  the  golden  dew  of  sleep. 
But  have  been  waked  by  his  timorous  dreams. 
Besides,  he  hates  me  for  my  father  Warwick ; 
And  will,  no  doubt,  shortly  be  rid  of  me. 

Q.  Eliz.  Poor  heart,  adieu !   I  pity  thy  complaining. 

Anne.  No  more  than  from  my  soul  I  mourn  for  yours. 

Dor.  Farewell,  thou  woful  welcomer  of  glory !  90 

Anne.  Adieu,  poor  soul,  that  takest  thy  leave  of  it ! 

Duch.    [To  Dorset]   Go  thou  to  Richmond,  and  good 
fortune  guide  thee ! 
[To  Anne]   Go  thou  to  Richard,  and  good  angels 
guard  thee ! 

109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

[To  Queen  Eli^.]   Go  thou  to  sanctuary,  and  good 

thoughts  possess  thee! 
I  to  my  grave,  where  peace  and  rest  lie  with  me ! 
Eighty  odd  years  of  sorrow  have  I  seen, 
And  each  hour's  joy  wreck'd  with  a  week  of  teen. 
Q.  Eli::.   Stay,  yet  look  back  with  me  unto  the  Tower. 
Pity,  you  ancient  stones,  those  tender  babes 
Whom  envy  hath  immured  within  your  walls !        loo 
Rough  cradle  for  such  little  pretty  ones ! 
Rude  ragged  nurse,  old  sullen  playfellow 
For  tender  princes,  use  my  babies  well ! 
So  foolish  sorrow  bids  your  stones  farewell. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

London.     The  palace. 

Sennet.     Enter  Richard,  in  pomp,  crowned;    Bucking- 
ham, Catesby,  a  Page,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.  Stand  all  apart.     Cousin  of  Buckingham ! 

Buck.  My  gracious  sovereign? 

K.  Rich.  Give  me  thy  hand. 

[Here  he  ascendeth  the  throne.] 
Thus  high,  by  thy  advice 
And  thy  assistance,  is  King  Richard  seated: 
But  shall  we  wear  these  honours  for  a  day? 
Or  shall  they  last,  and  we  rejoice  in  them? 

Buck.  Still  live  they,  and  for  ever  may  they  last ! 

K.  Rich.  O  Buckingham,  now  do  I  play  the  touch, 
To  try  if  thou  be  current  gold  indeed : 
Young  Edward  lives  :  think  now  what  I  would  say. 

Buck.   Say  on,  my  loving  lord.  ii 

K.  Rich.  Why,  Buckingham,  I  say,  I  would  be  king. 

Buck,  Why,  so  you  are,  my  thrice  renowned  liege. 

no 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

K.  Rich.  Ha!    am  I  king?    'tis  so:   but  Edward  lives. 

Buck.  True,  noble  prince. 

K.  Rich.  O  bitter  consequence, 

That  Edward  still  should  live  true  noble  prince !  ' 

Cousin,  thou  wert  not  wont  to  be  so  dull : 

Shall  I  be  plain  ?     I  wish  the  bastards  dead ; 

And  I  would  have  it  suddenly  perform'd. 

What  sayest  thou  ?   speak  suddenly  ;   be  brief.  20 

Buck.  Your  grace  may  do  your  pleasure. 
K.  Rich.  Tut,  tut,  thou  art  all  ice,  thy  kindness  freezeth : 

Say,  have  I  thy  consent  that  they  shall  die? 
Buck.  Give  me  some  breath,  some  little  pause,  my  lord, 

Before  I  positively  speak  herein : 

I  will  resolve  your  grace  immediately.  [Exit. 

Gate.    [Aside  to  a  sfaudcr  by]   The  king  is  angry :   see,  he 

bites  the  lip. 
K.  Rich.  I  will  converse  with  iron-witted  fools 

And  unrespective  boys :   none  are  for  me 

That  look  into  me  with  considerate  eyes :  30 

High-reaching  Buckingham  grows  circumspect. 

Boy! 
Page.  My  lord  ? 
K.  Rich.  Know'st  thou  not  any  whom  corrupting  gold 

Would  tempt  unto  a  close  exploit  of  death? 
Page.  My  lord,  I  know  a  discontented  gentleman. 

Whose  humble  means  match  not  his  haughty  mind  : 

Gold  were  as  good  as  twenty  orators, 

And  will,  no  doubt,  tempt  him  to  any  thing. 
K.  Rich.  What  is  his  name? 

Page.  His  name,  my  lord,  is  Tyrrel.     40 

K.  Rich.  I  partly  know  the  man :   go,  call  him  hither. 

[Exit  Page. 
Ill 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  deep-revolving  witty  Buckingham 
No  more  shall  be  the  neighbour  to  my  counsel : 
Hath  he  so  long  held  out  with  me  untired, 
And  stops  he  now  for  breath? 

Enter  Stanley. 

How  now !    what  news  with  you  ? 

Stan,  My  lord,  I  hear  the  Marquis  Dorset 's  fled 
To  Richmond,  in  those  parts  beyond  the  seas 
Where  he  abides.  [Stands  apart. 

K.Rich.  Catesby!  50 

Gate.  My  lord? 

K.  Rich.  Rumour  it  abroad 

That  Anne,  my  wife,  is  sick  and  like  to  die : 

I  will  take  order  for  her  keeping  close. 

Inquire  me  out  some  mean-born  gentleman, 

Whom  I  will  marry  straight  to  Clarence'  daughter* 

The  boy  is  foolish,  and  I  fear  not  him. 

Look,  how  thou  dream'st !     I  say  again,  give  out 

That  Anne  my  wife  is  sick,  and  like  to  die : 

About  it ;   for  it  stands  me  much  upon,  60 

To  stop  all  hopes  whose  growth  may  damage  me. 

[Exit  Catesby. 
I  must  be  married  to  my  brother's  daughter, 
Or  else  my  kingdom  stands  on  brittle  glass. 
Murder  her  brothers,  and  then  marry  her ! 
Uncertain  way  of  gain !     But  I  am  in 
So  far  in  blood  that  sin  will  pluck  on  sin : 
Tear-falling  pity  dwells  not  in  this  eye. 

Re-enter  Page,  with  Tyrrel. 
Is  thy  name  Tyrrel  ? 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Tvr.  James  Tyrrel,  and  your  most  obedient  subject. 

K.  Rich.  Art  thou,  indeed? 

fyr.  Prove  me,  my  gracious  sovereign. 

K.  Rich,  Barest  thou  resolve  to  kill  a  friend  of  mine?    71 

Tyr.  Ay,  my  lord  ; 

But  I  had  rather  kill  two  enemies. 

K.  Rich.  Why,  there  thou  hast  it :  two  deep  enemies, 
Foes  to  my  rest  and  my  sweet  sleep's  disturbers 
Are  they  that  I  would  have  thee  deal  upon : 
Tyrrel,  I  mean  those  bastards  in  the  Tower. 

Tyr.  Let  me  have  open  means  to  come  to  them, 
And  soon  I  '11  rid  you  from  the  fear  of  them. 

K.  Rich.  Thou  sing'st  sweet  music.     Hark,  come  hither, 
Tyrrel :  80 

Go,  by  this  token  :   rise,  and  lend  thine  ear  : 

[Whispers. 
There  is  no  more  but  so :   say  it  is  done. 
And  I  will  love  thee,  and  prefer  thee  too. 

Tyr.  'Tis  done,  my  gracious  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Shall  we  hear  from  thee,  Tyrrel,  ere  we  sleep  ? 

Tyr.  Ye  shall,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

Re-enter  Buckingham. 

Buck.  My  lord,  I  have  consider'd  in  my  mind 
The  late  demand  that  you  did  sound  me  in. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  let  that  pass.     Dorset  is  fled  to  Richmond. 

Buck.  I  hear  that  news,  my  lord.  9^ 

K.  Rich.   Stanley,  he  is  your  wife's  son  :   well,  look  to  it. 

Buck.  jMy  lord,  I  claim  your  gift,  my  due  by  promise. 
For  which  your  honour  and  your  faith  is  pawn'd ; 
The  earldom  of  Hereford  and  the  moveables 
The  which  you  promised  I  should  possess. 

113 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

K.  Rich.  Stanley,  look  to  your  wife :   if  she  convey 
Letters  to  Richmond,  you  shall  answer  it. 

Buck.  What  says  your  highness  to  my  just  demand? 

K.  Rich.  As  I  remember,  Henry  the  Sixth 

Did  prophesy  that  Richmond  should  be  king,         loo 
When  Richmond  was  a  little  peevish  boy. 
A  king,  perhaps,  perhaps, — 

Buck.  My  lord! 

A'.  Rich.  How  chance  the  prophet  could  not  at  that  time 
Have  told  me,  I  being  by,  that  I  should  kill  him  ? 

Buck.  My  lord,  your  promise  for  the  earldom, — 

K.  Rich.  Richmond !     When  last  I  was  at  Exeter, 
The  mayor  in  courtesy  show'd  me  the  castle, 
And  call'd  it  Rougemont :   at  which  name  I  started, 
Because  a  bard  of  Ireland  told  me  once,  no 

I  should  not  live  long  after  I  saw  Richmond. 

Buck.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  what 's  o'clock  ? 

Buck.  I  am  thus  bold  to  put  your  grace  in  mind 
Of  what  you  promised  me. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  but  what 's  o'clock  ? 

Buck.  Upon  the  stroke  of  ten, 

K.  Rich.  Well,  let  it  strike. 

Buck.  Why  let  it  strike? 

K.  Rich.  Because  that,  like  a  Jack,  thou  keep'st  the  stroke 
Betwixt  thy  begging  and  my  meditation. 
I  am  not  in  the  giving  vein  to-day.  120 

Buck.  Why,  then  resolve  me  whether  you  will  or  no. 

K.  Rich.  Tut,  tut. 

Thou  troublest  me ;   I  am  not  in  the  vein. 

[Exeunt  ail  but  Buckingham. 

Buck.  Is  it  even  so?   rewards  he  my  true  service 

114 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

With  such  deep  contempt  ?  made  I  him  king  for  this  ? 

O,  let  me  think  on  Hastings,  and  be  gone 

To  Brecknock,  while  my  fearful  head  is  on !     [EA'it. 

Scene  III. 

The  same. 

Enter  Tyrrcl. 

Tyr.  The  tyrannous  and  bloody  deed  is  done, 
The  most  arch  act  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 
Dighton  and  Forrest,  wdiom  I  did  suborn 
To  do  this  ruthless  piece  of  butchery, 
Although  they  were  flesh'd  villains,  bloody  dogs, 
Melting  with  tenderness  and  kind  compassion 
Wept  like  two  children  in  their  deaths'  sad  stories. 
'  Lo,  thus,'  quoth  Dighton,  *  lay  those  tender  babes  ' : 
*  Thus,  thus,'  quoth  Forrest,  '  girdling  one  another 
Within  their  innocent  alabaster  arms  :  ii 

Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 
Which  in  their  summer  beauty  kiss'd  each  other. 
A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay ; 
Which  once,'  quoth   Forrest,   '  almost   changed   my 

mind  ; 
But  O  !  the  devil ' — there  the  villain  stopp'd  ; 
Whilst  Dighton  thus  told  on  :    ''  We  smothered 
The  most  replenished  sw^eet  work  of  nature 
That  from  the  prime  creation  e'er  she  framed.' 
Thus  both  are  gone  with  conscience  and  remorse ; 
They  could  not  speak;   and  so  I  left  them  both,      21 
To  bring  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  king. 
And  here  he  comes. 

115 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  Kino;  Richard. 


"&> 


All  hail,  my  sovereign  liege ! 
K.  Rich.  Kind  Tyrrel,  am  I  happy  in  thy  news? 
Tyr.  If  to  have  done  the  thing  you  gave  in  charge 

Beget  your  happiness,  be  happy  then, 

For  it  is  done,  my  lord. 
K.  Rich.  But  didst  thou  see  them  dead  ? 

Tyr.  I  did,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  And  buried,  gentle  Tyrrel? 

Tyr.  The  chaplain  of  the  Tower  hath  buried  them ; 

But  how  or  in  what  place  I  do  not  know.  30 

K.  Rich.  Come  to  me,  Tyrrel,  soon  at  after  supper, 

And  thou  shalt  tell  the  process  of  their  death. 

Meantime,  but  think  how  I  may  do  thee  good, 

And  be  inheritor  of  thy  desire. 

Farewell  till  soon.  [Exit  Tyrrel. 

The  son  of  Clarence  have  I  pent  up  close ; 

His  daughter  meanly  have  I  match'd  in  marriage ; 

The  sons  of  Edward  sleep  in  Abraham's  bosom, 

And  Anne  my  wufe  hath  bid  the  world  good  night. 

Now,  for  I  know  the  Breton  Richmond  aims  40 

At  young  Elizabeth,  my  brother's  daughter, 

And,  by  that  knot,  looks  proudly  o'er  the  crown, 

To  her  I  go,  a  jolly  thriving  wooer. 

Enter  Catesby. 

Gate.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  Good   news    or   bad,    that    thou    comest   in    so 

bluntly  ? 
Gate.  Bad  news,  my  lord  :  Ely  is  fled  to  Richmond  ; 

And  Buckingham,  back'd  with  the  hardy  Welshmen, 
Is  in  the  field,  and  still  his  power  increaseth. 
K.  Rich.  Ely  with  Richmond  troubles  me  more  near 

116 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Than  Buckingham  and  his  rash-levied  army.  50 

Come,  I  have  heard  that  fearful  commenting 

Is  leaden  servitor  to  dull  delay ; 

Delay  leads  impotent  and  snail-paced  beggary : 

Then  fiery  expedition  be  my  wing, 

Jove's  Mercur\%  and  herald  for  a  king ! 

Come,  muster  men :   my  counsel  is  my  shield ; 

We  must  be  brief  when  traitors  brave  the  field. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Before  the  palace. 

Enter  Queen  Margaret. 

Q,  Mar.  So,  now  prosperity  begins  to  mellow 
And  drop  into  the  rotten  mouth  of  death. 
Here  in  these  confines  slily  have  I  lurk'd, 
To  watch  the  waning  of  mine  adversaries. 
A  dire  induction  am  I  witness  to, 
And  will  to  France,  hoping  the  consequence 
Will  prove  as  bitter,  black,  and  tragical. 
Withdraw  thee,  wretched  ^Margaret :  who  comes  here  ? 

Enter  Queen  EUzaheth  and  the  Duchess  of  York. 

Q.  Eliz.  Ah,  my  young  princes  !   ah,  my  tender  babes  ! 

My  unblown  flowers,  new-appearing  sweets !  10 

If  yet  your  gentle  souls  fly  in  the  air, 

And  be  not  fix'd  in  doom  perpetual. 

Hover  about  me  with  your  airy  wings, 

And  hear  your  mother's  lamentation ! 
Q.  Mar.  Hover  about  her :  say,  that  right  for  right 

Hath  dimm'd  your  infant  morn  to  aged  night. 
Duch.  So  many  miseries  have  crazed  my  voice, 

117 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  my  woe-wearied  tongue  is  mute  and  dumb. 

Edward  Plantagenet,  why  art  thou  dead  ? 
Q.  Mar.  Plantagenet  doth  quit  Plantagenet,  20 

Edward  for  Edward  pays  a  dying  debt. 
Q.  EH:;.  Wilt  thou,  O  God,  fly  from  such  gentle  lambs, 

And  throw  them  in  the  entrails  of  the  wolf  ? 

When  didst  thou  sleep  when  such  a  deed  was  done  ? 
Q.  Mar.  When  holy  Harry  died,  and  my  sweet  son. 
Duch.  Blind  sight,  dead  life,  poor  mortal  living  ghost, 

Woe's   scene,    world's    shame,    grave's    due   by   life 
usurp'd. 

Brief  abstract  and  record  of  tedious  days, 

Rest  thy  unrest  on  England's  lawful  earth, 

[Sitting  dozun. 

Unlawfully  made  drunk  with  innocents'  blood !        30 
Q.  Eliz.  O,  that  thou  wouldst  as  well  afford  a  grave 
,   As  thou  canst  yield  a  melancholy  seat ! 

Then  would  I  hide  my  bones,  not  rest  them  here. 

O,  who  hath  any  cause  to  mourn  but  I  ? 

[Sitting  down  by  her. 
Q.  Mar.  If  ancient  sorrow  be  most  reverend. 

Give  mine  the  benefit  of  seniory. 

And  let  my  woes  frown  on  the  upper  hand. 

If  sorrow  can  admit  society, 

[Sitting  dozvn  with  them. 

Tell  o'er  your  woes  again  by  viewing  mine : 

I  had  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him  ;  40 

I  had  a  Harry,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him : 

Thou  hadst  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him  ; 

Thou  hadst  a  Richard,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him. 
Dnch.  I  had  a  Richard  too,  and  thou  didst  kill  him ; 

I  had  a  Rutland  too,  thou  holp'st  to  kill  him. 
Q.  Mar.  Thou  hadst  a  Clarence  too,  and  Richard  kill'd  him. 

From  forth  the  kennel  of  thy  womb  hath  crept 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

A  hell-hound  that  doth  hunt  us  all  to  death : 

That  dog,  that  had  his  teeth  before  his  eyes, 

To  worry  lambs  and  lap  their  gentle  blood,  50 

That  foul  defacer  of  God's  handiwork, 

That  excellent  grand  tyrant  of  the  earth, 

That  reigns  in  galled  eyes  of  weeping  souls. 

Thy  womb  let  loose,  to  chase  us  to  our  graves. 

O  upright,  just,  and  true-disposing  God, 

How  do  I  thank  thee,  that  this  carnal  cur 

Preys  on  the  issue  of  his  mother's  body. 

And  makes  her  pew-fellow  with  others'  moan ! 

Duch.  O  Harry's  w'lie,  triumph  not  in  my  woes ! 

God  witness  with  me,  I  have  wept  for  thine.  60 

Q.  Mar.  Bear  with  me ;   I  am  hungry  for  revenge, 
And  now  I  cloy  me  with  beholding  it. 
Thy  Edward  he  is  dead,  that  stabb'd  my  Edward  • 
Thy  other  Edward  dead,  to  quit  my  Edward ; 
Young  York  he  is  but  boot,  because  both  they 
^latch  not  the  high  perfection  of  my  loss : 
Thy  Clarence  he  is  dead  that  kill'd  my  Edward ; 
And  the  beholders  of  this  tragic  play, 
The  adulterate  Hastings,  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey, 
Untimely  smother'd  in  their  dusky  graves.  70 

Richard  yet  lives,  hell's  black  intelligencer, 
Only  reserved  their  factor,  to  buy  souls 
And  send  them  thither :  but  at  hand,  at  hand. 
Ensues  his  piteous  and  unpitied  end : 
Earth  gapes,  hell  burns,  fiends  roar,  saints  pray. 
To  have  him  suddenly  convey' d  away. 
Cancel  his  bond  of  life,  dear  God,  I  pray. 
That  I  may  live  to  say.  The  dog  is  dead ! 

Q.  Elh,  O,  thou  didst  prophesy  the  time  would  come 

119 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  I  should  wish  for  thee  to  help  me  curse  80 

That  bottled  spider,  that  foul  bunch-back'd  toad! 
Q.  Mar.  I  call'd  thee  then  vain  flourish  of  my  fortune ; 
I  call'd  thee  then  poor  shadow,  painted  queen ; 
The  presentation  of  but  what  I  was ; 
The  flattering-  index  of  a  direful  pageant ; 
One  heaved  a-high,  to  be  hurl'd  down  below ; 
A  mother  only  mock'd  with  two  sweet  babes ; 
A  dream  of  what  thou  wert,  a  breath,  a  bubble, 
A  sign  of  dignity,  a  garish  flag, 

To  be  the  aim  of  every  dangerous  shot ;  90 

A  queen  in  jest,  only  to  fill  the  scene. 
Where  is  thy  husband  now ?  where  be  thy  brothers? 
Where  are  thy  children  ?  wherein  dost  thou  joy  ? 
Who  sues  to  thee,  and  cries  '  God  save  the  queen '  ? 
Where  be  the  bending  peers  that  flattered  thee  ? 
Where  be  the  thronging  troops  that  followed  thee  ? 
Decline  all  this,  and  see  what  now  thou  art : 
For  happy  wife,  a  most  distressed  widow ; 
For  joyful  mother,  one  that  wails  the  name; 
For  queen,  a  very  caitiff  crown'd  with  care;  100 

For  one  being  sued  to,  one  that  humbly  sues ; 
For  one  that  scorn'd  at  me,  now  scorn'd  of  me ; 
For  one  being  fear'd  of  all,  now  fearing  one; 
For  one  commanding  all,  obey'd  of  none. 
Thus  hath  the  course  of  justice  wheel'd  about, 
And  left  thee  but  a  very  prey  to  time ; 
Having  no  more  but  thought  of  what  thou  wert, 
To  torture  thee  the  more,  being  what  thou  art. 
Thou  didst  usurp  my  place,  and  dost  thou  not 
Usurp  the  just  proportion  of  my  sorrow?  no 

Now  thy  proud  neck  bears  half  my  burthen'd  yoke; 

120 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

From  which  even  here  I  sUp  my  weary  neck, 
And  leave  the  burthen  of  it  all  on  thee. 
Farewell,  York's  wife,  and  queen  of  sad  mischance 
These  English  woes  will  make  me  smile  in  France. 
Q.  Eliz.  O  thou  well  skill'd  in  curses,  stay  awhile, 

And  teach  me  how  to  curse  mine  enemies ! 
Q.  Mar.  Forbear  to  sleep  the  nights,  and  fast  the  days ; 
Compare  dead  happiness  with  living  woe ; 
Think  that  thy  babes  were  fairer  than  they  were,  120 
And  he  that  slew  them  fouler  than  he  is : 
Bettering  thy  loss  makes  the  bad  causer  worse : 
Revolving  this  will  teach  thee  how  to  curse. 
Q.  Eliz.  My  words  are  dull ;  O,  quicken  them  with  thine ! 
Q.  Mar.  Thy  woes  will  make  them  sharp  and  pierce  like 
mine.  [hxit. 

Duch.  Why  should  calamity  be  full  of  words  ? 
Q.  Eliz.  Windy  attorneys  to  their  client  woes. 
Airy  succeeders  of  intestate  joys. 
Poor  breathing  orators  of  miseries ! 
Let  them  have  scope :   though  what  they  do  impart 
Help  not  at  all,  yet  do  they  ease  the  heart.  131 

Duch.  If  so,  then  be  not  tongued-tied :   go  with  me, 
And  in  the  breath  of  bitter  words  let 's  smother 
My  damned  son,  which  thy  two  sweet  sons  smother'd. 
I  hear  his  drum :   be  copious  in  exclaims. 

Enter  King  Richard,  marching,  zvith  drums  and  trumpets. 

K.  Rich.  Who  intercepts  my  expedition? 

Duch.  O,  she  that  might  have  intercepted  thee, 
By  strangling  thee  in  her  accursed  womb, 
From  all  the  slaughters,  wretch,  that  thou  hast  done ! 
121 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Q.  Elis.  Hidest  thou  that  forehead  with  a  golden  crown, 
Where  should  be  graven,  if  that  right  were  right,  141 
The  slaughter  of  the  prince  that  owed  that  crown. 
And  the  dire  death  of  my  two  sons  and  brothers  ? 
Tell  me,  thou  villain  slave,  where  are  my  children  ? 

Duck.  Thou  toad,  thou  toad,  where  is  thy  brother  Clar- 


ence 


And  little  Ned  Plantagenet,  his  son  ? 
Q.  Eliz.  Where  is  kind  Hastings,  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey? 
K.  Rich.  A  flourish,  trumpets !    strike  alarum,  drums ! 

Let  not  the  heavens  hear  these  tell-tale  women 

Rail  on  the  Lord's  anointed:   strike,  I  say!  150 

[Flourish.     Alarums. 

Either  be  patient,  and  entreat  me  fair, 

Or  with  the  clamorous  report  of  war 

Thus  will  I  drown  your  exclamations. 
Diich.  Art  thou  my  son  ? 

K.  Rich,  Ay,  I  thank  God,  my  father,  and  yourself. 
Duch.  Then  patiently  hear  my  impatience. 
K.  Rich.  Madam,  I  have  a  touch  of  your  condition. 

Which  cannot  brook  the  accent  of  reproof. 
Duch.  O,  let  me  speak ! 

K.  Rich.  Do  then  ;  but  I  '11  not  hear. 

Duch.  I  will  be  mild  and  gentle  in  my  speech.  160 

K.  Rich.  And  brief,  good  mother ;  for  I  am  in  haste. 
Duch.  Art  thou  so  hasty  ?     I  have  stay'd  for  thee, 

God  knows,  in  anguish,  pain  and  agony. 
7\ .  Rich.  And  came  I  not  at  last  to  comfort  you  ? 
Duch.  No,  by  the  holy  rood,  thou  know'st  it  well, 

Thou  camest  on  earth  to  make  the  earth  my  hell. 

A  grievous  burthen  was  thy  birth  to  me ; 

Tetchy  and  wayward  was  thy  infancy;  168 

Thy  school-days  frightful,  desperate,  wild  and  furi- 
ous, 

122 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Thy  prime  of  manhood  daring,  bold,  and  venturous, 
Thy  age  confirm'd,  proud,  subtle,  bloody,  treacherous  ; 
More  mild,  but  yet  more  harmful,  kind  in  hatred : 
What  comfortable  hour  canst  thou  name. 
That  ever  graced  me  in  thy  company? 

iv.  Rich.  Faith,  none,  but  Humphrey  Hour,  that  call'd 
your  grace 
To  breakfast  once  forth  of  my  company. 
If  I  be  so  disgracious  in  your  sight, 
Let  me  march  on,  and  not  ofTend  your  grace. 
Strike  up  the  drum. 

Diich.  I  prithee,  hear  me  speak. 

K.  Rich.  You  speak  too  bitterly. 

Duck.  Hear  me  a  word ;         i8o 

For  I  shall  never  speak  to  thee  again. 

K.Rich.  So. 

Dnch.  Either  thou  wilt  die,  by  God's  just  ordinance, 
Ere  from  this  war  thou  turn  a  conqueror, 
Or  I  with  grief  and  extreme  age  shall  perish 
And  never  look  upon  thy  face  again. 
Therefore  take  with  thee  my  most  heavy  curse ; 
Which,  in  the  day  of  battle,  tire  thee  more 
Than  all  the  complete  armour  that  thou  wear'st ! 
My  prayers  on  the  adverse  party  fight ;  190 

And  there  the  little  souls  of  Edward's  children 
Whisper  the  spirits  of  thine  enemies, 
And  promise  them  success  and  victory. 
Bloody  thou  art,  bloody  will  be  thy  end ; 
Shame  serves  thy  life  and  doth  thy  death  attend. 

[Exit. 

Q.  Eli::.  Though  far  more  cause,  yet  much  less  spirit  to 
curse 

123 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Abides  in  me ;   I  say  amen  to  all. 

K.  Rich.  Stay,  madam ;   I  must  speak  a  word  with  you. 

Q.  Elic.  I  have  no  moe  sons  of  the  royal  blood  199 

For  thee  to  murder :  for  my  daughters,  Richard, 
They  shall  be  praying  nuns,  not  weeping  queens ; 
And  therefore  level  not  to  hit  their  lives. 

K.  Rich.  You  have  a  daughter  call'd  Elizabeth, 
Virtuous  and  fair,  royal  and  gracious. 

Q.  Elis.  And  must  she  die  for  this  ?     O,  let  her  live. 
And  I  '11  corrupt  her  manners,  stain  her  beauty ; 
Slander  myself  as  false  to  Edward's  bed ; 
Throw  over  her  the  veil  of  infamy : 
So  she  may  live  unscarr'd  of  bleeding  slaughter, 
I  will  confess  she  was  not  Edward's  daughter.      210 

K.  Rich.  Wrong  not  her  birth,  she  is  of  royal  blood. 

Q.  Eliz.  To  save  her  life,  I  '11  say  she  is  not  so. 

K.  Rich.  Her  life  is  only  safest  in  her  birth. 

Q.  Elis.  And  only  in  that  safety  died  her  brothers. 

K.  Rich.  Lo,  at  their  births  good  stars  were  opposite. 

Q.  Elis.  No,  to  their  lives  bad  friends  were  contrary. 

K.  Rich.  All  unavoided  is  the  doom  of  destiny. 

Q.  Eliz.  True,  when  avoided  grace  makes  destiny : 
My  babes  were  destined  to  a  fairer  death. 
If  grace  had  bless'd  thee  with  a  fairer  life.  220 

K.  Rich.  You  speak  as  if  that  I  had  slain  my  cousins. 

Q.  Eliz.  Cousins,  indeed ;  and  by  their  uncle  cozen'd 
Of  comfort,  kingdom,  kindred,  freedom,  life. 
Whose  hand  soever  lanced  their  tender  hearts, 
Thy  head,  all  indirectly,  gave  direction : 
No  doubt  the  murderous  knife  was  dull  and  blunt, 
Till  it  was  whetted  on  thy  stone-hard  heart. 
To  revel  in  the  entrails  of  my  lambs. 

124 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

But  that  still  use  of  grief  makes  wild  grief  tame, 
My  tongue  should  to  thy  ears  not  name  my  boys, 
Till  that  my  nails  were  anchor'd  in  thine  eyes;      231 
And  I,  in  such  a  desperate  bay  of  death, 
Like  a  poor  bark,  of  sails  and  tackling  reft, 
Rush  all  to  pieces  on  thy  rocky  bosom. 

K.  Rich.  Madam,  so  thrive  I  in  my  enterprise, 
And  dangerous  success  of  bloody  wars. 
As  I  intend  more  good  to  you  and  yours, 
Than  ever  you  or  yours  were  by  me  wrong' d ! 

Q.  Eliz.  A\'hat  good  is  cover'd  with  the  face  of  heaven. 
To  be  discover'd,  that  can  do  me  good?  240 

K.  Rich.  The  advancement  of  your  children,  gentle  lady. 

Q.  Eliz.  Up  to  some  scaffold,  there  to  lose  their  heads  ? 

K.  Rich.  No,  to  the  dignity  and  height  of  honour, 
The  high  imperial  type  of  this  earth's  glory. 

Q.  Eliz.  Flatter  my  sorrows  with  report  of  it ; 

Tell  me  what  state,  what  dignity,  what  honour, 
Canst  thou  demise  to  any  child  of  mine? 

K,  Rich.  Even  all  I  have ;  yea,  and  myself  and  all. 
Will  I  withal  endow  a  child  of  thine ; 
So  in  the  Lethe  of  thy  angry  soul  250 

Thou  drown  the  sad  remembrance  of  those  wrongs. 
Which  thou  supposest  I  have  done  to  thee. 

Q.  Eliz.  Be  brief,  lest  that  the  process  of  thy  kindness 
Last  longer  telling  than  thy  kindness'  date. 

K.  Rich.  Then    know,   that    from    my   soul    I    love    thy 
daughter. 

Q.  Eliz.  My  daughter's  mother  thinks  it  with  her  soul. 

K.  Rich.  What  do  you  think? 

Q.  Eliz.  That  thou  dost  love  my  daughter  from  thy  soul': 
So  from  thy  soul's  love  didst  thou  love  her  brothers ; 

125 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  from  my  heart's  love  I  do  thank  thee  for  it.  260 

K.  Rich,  Be  not  so  hasty  to  confound  my  meaning : 
I  mean,  that  with  my  soul  I  love  thy  daughter, 
And  mean  to  make  her  Queen  of  England. 

Q.  Elis.  Say  then,  who  dost  thou  mean  shall  be  her  king? 

K.  Rich.  Even  he  that  makes  her  queen :   who  should  be 
else  ? 

Q.Eli^.  What,  thou? 

K.  Rich.  I,  even  I :   what  think  you  of  it,  madam  ? 

Q.  Eliz.  How  canst  thou  woo  her  ? 

K.  Rich.  That  would  I  learn  of  you. 

As  one  that  are  best  acquainted  with  her  humour. 

Q.  Eliz.  And  wilt  thou  learn  of  me? 

K.  Rich.  Madam,  with  all  my  heart.  270 

Q.  Eliz.  Send  to  her,  by  the  man  that  slew  her  brothers, 
A  pair  of  bleeding  hearts ;  thereon  engrave 
Edward  and  York ;   then  haply  she  will  weep : 
Therefore  present  to  her, — as  sometime  Margaret 
Did  to  thy  father,  steep'd  in  Rutland's  blood, — 
A  handkerchief  ;  which,  say  to  her,  did  drain 
The  purple  sap  from  her  sweet  brother's  body, 
And  bid  her  dry  her  weeping  eyes  therewith. 
If  this  inducement  force  her  not  to  love. 
Send  her  a  story  of  thy  noble  acts  ;  280 

Tell  her  thou  madest  away  her  uncle  Clarence, 
Her  uncle  Rivers ;  yea,  and,  for  her  sake, 
Madest  quick  conveyance  with  her  good  aunt  Anne. 

K.  Rich.  Come,  come,  you  mock  me ;   this  is  not  the  way 
To  win  your  daughter. 

Q.  Eliz.  There  is  no  other  way ; 

Unless  thou  couldst  put  on  some  other  shape, 
And  not  be  Richard  that  hath  done  all  this. 

126 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  So.  iv. 

K.  Rich.  Say  that  I  did  all  this  for  love  of  her. 

Q.  Elk.  Nay,  then  indeed  she  cannot  choose  but  hate  thee, 
Having  bought  love  with  such  a  bloody  spoil.        290 

K.  Rich.  Look,  what  is  done  cannot  be  now  amended : 
Men  shall  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 
Which  after-hours  give  leisure  to  repent. 
If  I  did  take  the  kingdom  from  your  sons, 
To  make  amends,  I  '11  give  it  to  your  daughter. 
If  I  have  kill'd  the  issue  of  your  womb. 
To  quicken  your  increase,  I  will  beget 
Mine  issue  of  your  blood  upon  your  daughter : 
A  grandam's  name  is  little  less  in  love 
Than  is  the  doting  title  of  a  mother ;  300 

They  are  as  children  but  one  step  below, 
Even  of  your  mettle,  of  your  very  blood ; 
Of  all  one  pain,  save  for  a  night  of  groans 
Endured  of  her,  for  whom  you  bid  like  sorrow 
Your  children  were  vexation  to  your  youth. 
But  mine  shall  be  a  comfort  to  your  age. 
The  loss  you  have  is  but  a  son  being  king, 
And  by  that  loss  your  daughter  is  made  queen. 
I  cannot  make  you  what  amends  I  would. 
Therefore  accept  such  kindness  as  I  can.  310 

Dorset  your  son,  that  with  a  fearful  soul 
Leads  discontented  steps  in  foreign  soil, 
This  fair  alliance  quickly  shall  call  home 
To  high  promotions  and  great  dignity : 
The  king,  that  calls  your  beauteous  daughter  wife, 
Familiarly  shall  call  thy  Dorset  brother ; 
Again  shall  you  be  mother  to  a  king. 
And  all  the  ruins  of  distressful  times 
Repair'd  with  double  riches  of  content. 
127 


Act  IV.  5c.  rv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

What !   we  have  many  goodly  days  to  see :  320 

The  hquid  drops  of  tears  that  you  have  shed 

Shall  come  again,  transform'd  to  orient  pearl, 

Advantaging  their  loan  with  interest 

Of  ten  times  double  gain  of  happiness. 

Go  then,  my  mother,  to  thy  daughter  go ; 

Make  bold  her  bashful  years  with  your  experience; 

Prepare  her  ears  to  hear  a  wooer's  tale ; 

Put  in  her  tender  heart  the  aspiring  flame 

Of  golden  sovereignty  ;   acquaint  the  princess 

With  the  sweet  silent  hours  of  marriage  joys :        330 

And  when  this  arm  of  mine  hath  chastised 

The  petty  rebel,  duU-brain'd  Buckingham, 

Bound  with  triumphant  garlands  will  I  come, 

And  lead  thy  daughter  to  a  conqueror's  bed ; 

To  whom  I  will  retail  my  conquest  won, 

And  she  shall  be  sole  victress,  Caesar's  Caesar. 

Q.  Eliz.  What  were  I  best  to  say?  her  father's  brother 
Would  be  her  lord  ?  or  shall  I  say,  her  uncle  ? 
Or,  he  that  slew  her  brothers  and  her  uncles  ? 
Under  w^hat  title  shall  I  woo  for  thee,  340 

That  God,  the  law,  my  honour  and  her  love, 
Can  make  seem  pleasing  to  her  tender  years  ? 

K.  Rich.  Infer  fair  England's  peace  by  this  alliance. 

Q.  Eliz.  Which  she  shall  purchase  with  still  lasting  war. 

K.  Rich.  Say  that  the  king,  which  may  command,  entreats. 

Q.  Eliz.  That  at  her  hands  which  the  king's  King  forbids. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  she  shall  be  a  high  and  mighty  queen. 

Q.  Eli;:.  To  wail  the  title,  as  her  mother  doth. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  I  will  love  her  everlastingly. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  how  long  shall  that  title  '  ever  '  last  ?        350 

K.  Rich.  Sweetly  in  force  unto  her  fair  life's  end. 

128 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  how  long  fairly  shall  her  sweet  life  last  ? 

K.  Rich.  So  long  as  heaven  and  nature  lengthens  it. 

Q.  Eli::.  So  long  as  hell  and  Richard  likes  of  it. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  I,  her  sovereign,  am  her  subject  love. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  she,  your  subject,  loathes  such  sovereignty. 

K.  Rich.  Be  eloquent  in  my  behalf  to  her. 

Q.  Eliz.  An  honest  tale  speeds  best  being  plainly  told. 

K.  Rich.  Then  in  plain  terms  tell  her  my  loving  tale. 

Q.  Eliz.  Plain  and  not  honest  is  too  harsh  a  style.  360 

K.  Rich.  Your  reasons  are  too  shallow  and  too  quick. 

Q.  Eliz.  O  no,  my  reasons  are  too  deep  and  dead ; 

Too  deep  and  dead,  poor  infants,  in  their  grave. 
K.  Rich.  Harp  not  on  that  string,  madam  ;  that  is  past. 
Q.  Eliz.  Harp  on  it  still  shall  I  till  heart-strings  break. 
K.  Rich.  Now,  by  my  George,  my  garter,  and  my  crown, — 
Q.  Eliz.  Profaned,  dishonour'd,  and  the  third  usurp'd. 
K,  Rich.  I  swear — 
Q,  Eliz.  By  nothing  ;   for  this  is  no  oath  : 

The  George,  profaned,  hath  lost  his  holy  honour ; 

The  garter,  blemish'd,  pawn'd  his  knightly  virtue ; 

The  crown,  usurp'd,  disgraced  his  kingly  glory.      371 

If  something  thou  wilt  swear  to  be  believed, 

Swear  then  by  something  that  thou  hast  not  wrong'd. 
K.  Rich.  Now,  by  the  world — 

Q.  Eliz.  Tis  full  of  thy  foul  wrongs. 

K.  Rich.  My  father's  death— 

Q.  Eliz.  Thy  life  hath  that  dishonour'd. 

K.  Rich.  Then,  by  myself — 

Q.  Eliz.  Thyself  thyself  misusest. 

K.  Rich.  Why  then,  by  God— 
Q.  Eliz.  God's  wrong  is  most  of  all. 

If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 

129 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  unity  the  king  thy  brother  made 

Had  not  been  broken,  nor  my  brother  slain  :  380 

If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 

The  imperial  metal,  circling  now  thy  brow, 

Had  graced  the  tender  temples  of  my  child, 

And  both  the  princes  had  been  breathing  here, 

Which  now,  two  tender  playfellows  for  dust, 

Thy  broken  faith  hath  made  a  prey  for  worms. 

What  canst  thou  swear  by  now  ? 

K.  Rich.  The  time  to  come. 

Q.  Eliz.  That  thou  hast  wronged  in  the  time  o'erpast ; 
For  I  myself  have  many  tears  to  wash 
Hereafter  time,  for  time  past  wrong'd  by  thee.      390 
The  children  live,  whose  parents  thou  hast  slaugh- 

ter'd, 
Ungovern'd  youth,  to  wail  it  in  their  age ; 
The  parents  live,  whose  children  thou  hast  butcherVl, 
Old  wither'd  plants,  to  wail  it  with  their  age. 
Swear  not  by  time  to  come ;  for  that  thou  hast 
Misused  ere  used,  by  time  misused  o'erpast. 

K.  Rich.  As  I  intend  to  prosper  and  repent. 
So  thrive  I  in  my  dangerous  attempt 
Of  hostile  arms  !  myself  myself  confound  ! 
Heaven  and  fortune  bar  me  happy  hours  !  400 

Day,  yield  me  not  thy  light ;  nor,  night,  thy  rest ! 
Be  opposite  all  planets  of  good  luck 
To  my  proceedings,  if,  with  pure  heart's  love, 
Immaculate  devotion,  holy  thoughts, 
I  tender  not  thy  beauteous  princely  daughter ! 
In  her  consists  my  happiness  and  thine ; 
Without  her,  follows  to  this  land  and  me. 
To  thee,  herself,  and  many  a  Christian  soul, 
Death,  desolation,  ruin  and  decay : 

130 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

It  cannot  be  avoided  but  by  this ;  410 

It  will  not  be  avoided  but  by  this. 

Therefore,  good  mother, — I  must  call  you  so — 

Be  the  attorney  of  my  love  to  her : 

Plead  what  I  will  be,  not  what  I  have  been ; 

Not  my  deserts,  but  what  I  will  deserve : 

Urge  the  necessity  and  state  of  times. 

And  be  not  peevish-fond  in  great  designs. 
Q.  Eli:^.  Shall  I  be  tempted  of  the  devil  thus? 
K.  Rich.  Ay,  if  the  devil  tempt  thee  to  do  good. 
Q.  Eli::;.  Shall  I  forget  myself  to  be  myself  ?  420 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  if  yourself's  remembrance  wrong  yourself. 
Q.  Eli::.  But  thou  didst  kill  my  children. 
K.  Rich.   But  in  your  daughter's  womb  I  bury  them : 

Where  in  that  nest  of  spicery  they  shall  breed 

Selves  of  themselves,  to  your  recomforture. 
Q.  Eiic.   Shall  I  go  win  my  daughter  to  thy  will  ? 
K.  Rich.  And  be  a  happy  mother  by  the  deed. 
Q.  Eli::.  I  go.     Wr'ite  to  me  very  shortly, 

And  you  shall  understand  from  me  her  mind. 
K.  Rich.  Bear  her  my  true  love's  kiss  ;  and  so,  farewell. 

[Exit  Queen  Elisabeth.     430 

Relenting  fool,  and  shallow,  changing  woman ! 

Enter  Ratcliff ;    Catesby  follozving. 

How  now  !   what  news  ? 
Rat.  My  gracious  sovereign,  on  the  western  coast 
Rideth  a  puissant  navy ;  to  the  shore 
Throng  many  doubtful  hollow-hearted  friends, 
Unarm'd,  and  unresolved  to  beat  them  back : 
Tis  thought  that  Richmond  is  their  admiral ; 
And  there  they  hull,  expecting  but  the  aid 

131 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Of  Buckingham  to  welcome  them  ashore. 
K.  Rich.  Some   Hght-foot    friend   post   to   the   Duke   of 
Norfolk :  440 

Ratcliff,  thyself,  or  Catesby  ;  where  is  he  ? 
Cate.  Here,  my  lord, 

K.Rich.   Fly  to  the  duke.      [To  Ratcliff]      Post  thou  to 
Salisbury : 

When  thou  comest  thither, —  [To  Catesby]  Dull  un- 
mindful villain, 

Why  stand'st  thou  still,  and  go'st  not  to  the  duke  ? 
Cate.  First,  mighty  sovereign,  let  me  know  your  mind. 

What  from  your  grace  I  shall  deliver  to  him. 
/v.  Rich.  O,  true,  good  Catesby :   bid  him  levy  straight 

The  greatest  strength  and  power  he  can  make. 

And  meet  me  presently  at  Salisbury.  450 

Cate.  I  go.  [Exit. 

Rat.  What  is  't  your  highness'  pleasure  I  shall  do 

At  Salisbury? 
K.  Rich.  Why,  what  wouldst  thou  do  there  before  I  go  ? 
Rat.  Your  highness  told  me  I  should  post  before. 
K.  Rich.  ]\Iy  mind  is  changed,  sir,  my  mind  is  changed. 

Enter  Lord  Stanley. 

How  now,  what  news  with  you  ? 
Stan.  None  good,  my  lord,  to  please  you  with  the  hearing ; 

Nor  none  so  bad,  but  it  may  well  be  told. 
K.  Rich.  Hoyday,  a  riddle !   neither  goor  nor  bad !      460 

Why  dost  thou  run  so  many  mile  about. 

When  thou  mayst  tell  thy  tale  a  nearer  way? 

Once  more,  what  news  ? 
Stan.  Richmond  is  on  the  seas. 

K.  Rich.  There  let  him  sink,  and  be  the  seas  on  him ! 

132 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

White-llver'd  runagate,  what  doth  he  there  ? 
Stan,  I  know  not,  mighty  sovereign,  but  by  guess. 
K.  Rich.  Well,  sir,  as  you  guess,  as  you  guess  ? 
Stan.  Stirr'd  up  by  Dorset,  Buckingham,  and  Ely, 

He  makes  for  England,  there  to  claim  the  crown. 
K.  Rich.  Is  the  chair  empty?   is  the  sword  unsway'd? 
Is  the  king  dead?  the  empire  unpossesir'd ?  47^ 

What  heir  of  York  is  there  alive  but  we  ? 
And  who  is  England's  king  but  great  York's  heir? 
Then,  tell  me,  what  doth  he  upon  the  sea? 
Stan.  Unless  for  that,  my  Hege,  I  cannot  guess. 
K.  Rich.  Unless  for  that  he  comes  to  be  your  liege. 

You  cannot  guess  wherefore  the  Welshman  comes. 
Thou  wilt  revolt  and  fly  to  him,  I  fear. 
Stan.  No,  mighty  liege ;   therefore  mistrust  me  not. 
K.  Rich.  Where  is  thy  power  then  to  beat  him  back? 

Where  are  thy  tenants  and  thy  followers  ?  481 

Are  they  not  now  upon  the  western  shore. 
Safe-conducting  the  rebels  from  their  ships  ? 
Stan.  No,  my  good  lord,  my  friends  are  in  the  north. 
K.Rich.  Cold  friends  to  Richard:    what  do  they  in  the 
north. 
When  they  should  serve  their  sovereign  in  the  west  ? 
Stan.  They  have  not  been  commanded,  mighty  sovereign  : 
Please  it  your  majesty  to  give  me  leave, 
I  '11  muster  up  my  friends,  and  meet  your  grace 
Where  and  what  time  your  majesty  shall  please.    490 
K.  Rich.  Ay,  ay,- thou  wouldst  be  gone  to  join  with  Rich- 
mond: 
I  will  not  trust  you,  sir. 
Stan.  Most  mighty  sovereig:n, 

You  have  no  cause  to  hold  my  friendship  doubtful : 
I  never  was  nor  never  will  be  false. 
133 


Act  IV.  Sc.  IV.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

K.Rich.  Well, 

Go  muster  men ;   but,  hear  you,  leave  behind 
Your  son,  George  Stanley  :   look  your  faith  be  firm. 
Or  else  his  head's  assurance  is  but  frail. 

Stan.  So  deal  with  him  as  I  prove  true  to  you.  [Exit. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  gracious  sovereign,  now  in  Devonshire,         500 
As  I  by  friends  am  well  advertised. 
Sir  Edward  Courtney,  and  the  haughty  prelate 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  his  brother  there. 
With  many  moe  confederates,  are  in  arms. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 

Sec.  Mess.  My  liege,  in  Kent,  the  Guildfords  are  in  arms : 
And  every  hour  more  competitors 
Flock  to  their  aid,  and  still  their  power  increaseth. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 

Third  Mess.  My  lord,  the  army  of  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham— 
K.  Rich.  Out  on  you,  owls !   nothing  but  songs  of  death  ? 

[He  sfriketh  him. 

Take  that,  until  thou  bring  me  better  news.  510 

Third  Mess.  The  news  I  have  to  tell  your  majesty 

Is,  that  by  sudden  floods  and  fall  of  waters, 

Buckingham's  army  is  dispersed  and  scatter'd : 

And  he  himself  wander'd  away  alone. 

No  man  knows  whither. 
K.  Rich.  I  cry  thee  mercy  : 

There  is  my  purse  to  cure  that  blow  of  thine. 

Hath  any  well-advised  friend  proclaim'd 

Reward  to  him  that  brings  the  traitor  in  ? 
Third  Mess.  Such  proclamation  hath  been  made,  my  liege. 

134 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 

Fourth  Mess.  Sir    Thomas    Lovel    and    Lord    Marquis 
Dorset, 
'Tis  said,  my  liege,  in  Yorkshire  are  in  arms.  521 

Yet  this  good  comfort  bring  I  to  your  grace. 
The  Breton  navy  is  dispersed  by  tempest: 
Richmond,  in  Dorsetshire,  sent  out  a  boat 
Unto  the  shore,  to  ask  those  on  the  banks 
If  they  were  his  assistants,  yea  or  no ; 
Who  answer'd  him,  they  came  from  Buckingham 
Upon  his  party :   he,  mistrusting  them, 
Hoised  sail  and  made  away  for  Brittany. 

K.  Rich.  March  on,  march  on,  since  we  are  up  in  arms ; 
If  not  to  fight  with  foreign  enemies,  531 

Yet  to  beat  down  these  rebels  here  at  home. 

Re-enter  Catesby. 

Cate.  My  liege,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  taken  ; 

That  is  the  best  news :  that  the  Earl  of  Richmond 
Is  with  a  mighty  power  landed  at  Milford, 
Is  colder  tidings,  yet  they  must  be  told. 

K,  Rich.  Away  towards  Salisbury  !  while  we  reason  here, 
A  royal  battle  might  be  won  and  lost : 
Some  one  take  order  Buckingham  be  brought 
To  Salisbury ;  the  rest  march  on  with  me.  540 

[Flourish.    Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

Lord  Derby's  house. 

Enter  Derby  and  Sir  Christopher  Urswick. 

Der.  Sir  Christopher,  tell  Richmond  this  from  me : 
That  in  the  sty  of  this  most  bloody  boar 

135 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

My  son  Georg-e  Stanley  is  frank'd  up  In  hold : 
If  I  revolt,  off  goes  young  George's  head  ; 
The  fear  of  that  withholds  my  present  aid. 
But,  tell  me,  where  is  princely  Richmond  now  ? 

Chris.  At  Pembroke,  or  at  Ha'rford-west,  in  Wales. 

Der.  What  men  of  name  resort  to  him  ? 

Chris.  Sir  Walter  Herbert,  a  renowned  soldier ; 

Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  Sir  William  Stanley ;  lo 

Oxford,  redoubted  Pembroke,  Sir  James*  Blunt, 
And  Rice  ap  Thomas,  with  a  valiant  crew, 
And  many  moe  of  noble  fame  and  worth : 
And  towards  London  they  do  bend  their  course, 
If  by  the  way  they  be  not  fought  withal. 

Der.  Return  unto  thy  lord ;   commend  me  to  him : 
Tell  him  the  queen  hath  heartily  consented 
He  shall  espouse  Elizabeth  her  daughter. 
These  letters  will  resolve  him  of  my  mind. 
Farewell.  [Exeunt.     20 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

Salisbury.    An  open  place. 

Enter  the  Sheriif,  and  Buckinghani,  zvith  halberds, 
led  to  execution. 

Buck.  Will  not  King  Richard  let  me  speak  with  him? 

Sher.  No,  my  good  lord  ;  therefore  be  patient. 

Buck.  Hastings,  and  Edward's  children.  Rivers,  Grey, 

Holy  King  Henry,  and  thy  fair  son  Edward, 

Vaughan,  and  all  that  have  miscarried 

By  underhand  corrupted  foul  injustice, 

136 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

If  that  your  moody  discontented  souls 

Do  through  the  clouds  behold  this  present  hour, 

Even  for  revenge  mock  my  destruction ! 

This  is  All-Souls'  day,  fellows,  is  it  not?  lo 

Shcr.  It  is,  my  lord. 

Buck.  Why,  then  All-Souls'  day  is  my  body's  doomsday. 
This  is  the  day  that  in  King  Edward's  time, 
I  wish'd  might  fall  on  me  when  I  was  found 
False  to  his  children  or  his  wife's  allies ; 
This  is  the  day  wherein  I  wish'd  to  fall 
By  the  false  faith  of  him  I  trusted  most ; 
This,  this  All-Souls'  day  to  my  fearful  soul 
Is  the  determined  respite  of  my  wrongs  : 
That  high  All-seer  that  I  dallied  with  20 

Hath  turn'd  my  feigned  prayer  on  my  head, 
And  given  in  earnest  what  I  begg'd  in  jest. 
Thus  doth  he  force  the  swords  of  wicked  men 
To  turn  their  own  points  on  their  masters'  bosoms  : 
Now  Margaret's  curse  is  fallen  upon  my  head ; 
*  When  he,'  quoth  she,   '  shall  split  thy  heart  with 

sorrow. 
Remember  Margaret  was  a  prophetess.' 
Come,  sirs,  convey  me  to  the  block  of  shame ; 
Wrong  hath  but  wrong,  and  blame  the  due  of  blame. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

The  camp  near  Tamworth. 

Enter  Richmond,  Oxford,  Blunt,  Herbert,  and  others, 
-ci'ith  drum  and  colours. 

Riclim.  Fellows  in  arms,  and  my  most  loving  friends, 
Bruised  underneath  the  yoke  of  tyranny, 
Thus  far  into  the  bowels  of  the  land 

137 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Have  we  march'd  on  without  impediment  ; 

And  here  receive  we  from  our  father  Stanley 

Lines  of  fair  comfort  and  encouragement. 

The  wretched,  bloody,  and  usurping  boar. 

That  spoil'd  your  summer  fields  and  fruitful  vines, 

Swills  your  warm  blood  like  wash,  and  makes  his 
trough 

In  your  enibowell'd  bosoms,  this  foul  swine  lo 

Lies  ROW  even  in  the  centre  of  this  isle, 

Near  to  the  town  of  Leicester,  as  we  learn : 

From  Tamworth  thither  is  but  one  day's  march. 

In  God's  name,  cheerly  on,  courageous  friends, 

To  reap  the  harvest  of  perpetual  peace 

By  this  one  bloody  trial  of  sharp  war. 
Oxf.  Every  man's  conscience  is  a  thousand  swords, 

To  fight  against  that  bloody  homicide. 
Herb.  I  doubt  not  but  his  friends  will  fly  to  us. 
Blunt.  He  hath  no  friends  but  who  are  friends  for  fear,  20 

Which  in  his  greatest  need  will  shrink  from  him. 
Richm.  All  for  our  vantage.  Then,  in  God's  name,  march : 

True  hope  is  swift,  and  flies  with  swallow's  wings ; 

Kings  it  makes  gods,  and  meaner  creatures  kings. 

[Exeimt. 

Scene  IIL 

Boszi'orth  Field. 

Enter  King  Richard  in  arms  zuith  Norfolk,  the  Earl  ofi 
Surrey,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.  Here  pitch  our  tents,  even  here  in  Bosworth  field. 

My  Lord  of  Surrey,  why  look  you  so  sad  ? 
Siir.  My  heart  is  ten  times  lighter  than  my  looks. 
K,  Rich.  My  Lord  of  Norfolk,— 

138 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Nor,  Here,  most  gracious  liege.' 

K.  Rich.    Norfolk,  we  must  have  knocks  ;  ha  !  must  we  not  ? 
N'or.  We  must  both  give  and  take,  my  gracious  lord. 
K.  Rich.  Up  with  my  tent  there !   here  will  I  lie  to-night : 

But  where  to-morrow  ?    Well,  all 's  one  for  that. 

Who  hath  descried  the  number  of  the  foe  ? 
N'or.  Six  or  seven  thousand  is  their  utmost  power.  lo 

K.  Rich.  Why,  our  battalion  trebles  that  account : 

Besides,  the  king's  name  is  a  tower  of  strength, 

Which  they  upon  the  adverse  party  want. 

Up  with  my  tent  there  !    Valiant  gentlemen, 

Let  us  survey  the  vantage  of  the  field ; 

Call  for  some  men  of  sound  direction : 

Let 's  want  no  discipline,  make  no  delay  ; 

For,  lords,  to-morrow  is  a  busy  day.  [Exeunt. 

Enter,  on  the  other  side  of  the  held,  Richmond,  Sir 
William  Brandon,  Oxford,  and  others.  Some  of  the 
Soldiers  pitch  Richmond's  tent. 

Richm.  The  weary  sun  hath  made  a  golden  set, 

And  by  the  bright  track  of  his  fiery  car  20 

Gives  signal  of  a  goodly  day  to-morrow. 

Sir  William  Brandon,  you  shall  bear  my  standard. 

Give  me  some  ink  and  paper  in  my  tent : 

I  '11  draw  the  form  and  model  of  our  battle. 

Limit  each  leader  to  his  several  charge, 

And  part  in  just  proportion  our  small  strength. 

My  Lord  of  Oxford,  you,  Sir  William  Brandon, 

And  you.  Sir  Walter  Herbert,  stay  with  me. 

The  Earl  of  Pembroke  keeps  his  regiment : 

Good  Captain  Blunt,  bear  my  good-night  to  him,      30 

And  by  the  second  hour  in  the  morning 

139 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Desire  the  earl  to  see  me  in  my  tent : 

Yet  one  thing  more,  good  Blunt,  before  thou  go'st, 

Where  is  Lord  Stanley  quarter'd,  dost  thou  know? 

Blunt.  Unless  I  have  mista'en  his  colours  much, 
Which  well  I  am  assured  I  have  not  done. 
His  regiment  lies  half  a  mile  at  least 
South  from  the  mighty  power  of  the  king. 

Richm.  If  without  peril  it  be  possible. 

Good  Captain  Blunt,  bear  my  good-night  to  him,    40 
And  give  him  from  me  this  poor  needful  scroll. 

Blunt.  Upon  my  life,  my  lord,  I  '11  undertake  it ; 
And  so,  God  give  you  quiet  rest  to-night ! 

Richm.  Good-night,  good  Captain  Blunt.     Come,  gentle- 
men, 
Let  us  consult  upon  to-morrow's  business : 
In  to  our  tent !  the  air  is  raw  and  cold. 

[They  withdraw  into  the  tent. 

Enter,  to  his  tent,  King  Richard,  Norfolk,  Rat  cliff, 
C  ate  shy,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.  What  is  't  o'clock  ? 

Gate.  It 's  supper-time,  my  lord  ; 

It 's  nine  o'  clock. 
K.  Rich.  I  will  not  sup  to-night. 

Give  me  some  ink  and  paper. 

What,  is  my  beaver  easier  than  it  was !  50 

And  all  my  armour  laid  into  my  tent  ? 
Cate.  It  is,  my  liege  ;   and  all  things  are  in  readiness. 
K,  Rich.  Good  Norfolk,  hie  thee  to  thy  charge ; 

Use  careful  watch,  choose  trusty  sentinels. 
Nor.  I  go,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Stir  with  the  lark  to-morrow,  gentle  Norfolk. 

140 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Nor.  I  warrant  you,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

K.  Rich.  Catesby ! 

Cate.  My  lord  ? 

K.  Rich.  Send  out  a  pursuivant  at  arms 

To  Stanley's  regiment ;  bid  him  bring  his  power      60 

Before  sunrising,  lest  his  son  George  fall 

Into  the  blind  cave  of  eternal  night.         [Exit  Catesby. 

Fill  me  a  bowl  of  wine.     Give  me  a  watch. 

Saddle  white  Surrey  for  the  field  to-morrow. 

Look  that  my  staves  be  sound,  and  not  too  heavy. 

Ratcliff ! 
Rat.  My  lord? 

K.  Rich,  Saw'st  thou  the  melancholy  Lord  Northumber- 
land? 
Rat.  Thomas  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  himself. 

Much  about  cock-shut  time,  from  troop  to  troop      70 

Went  through  the  army,  cheering  up  the  soldiers. 
K.  Rich.  So,  I  am  satisfied.    Give  me  a  bowl  of  wine : 

I  have  not  that  alacrity  of  spirit. 

Nor  cheer  of  mind,  that  I  was  wont  to  have. 

Set  it  down.    Is  ink  and  paper  ready  ? 
Rat.  '  It  is,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Bid  my  guard  watch.    Leave  me.    Ratcliff. 

About  the  mid  of  night  come  to  my  tent, 

And  help  to  arm  me.    Leave  me,  I  say. 

[Exeunt  Ratcliff  and  the  other  attendants. 

Enter  Derby  to  Richmond  in  his  tent.  Lords  and  others 
attending. 

Der.  Fortune  and  victory  sit  on  thy  helm ! 
Richm.  All  comfort  that  the  dark  night  can  afford  So 

Be  to  thy  personj  noble  father-in-law ! 

141 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Tell  me,  how  fares  our  loving  mother  ? 

De7\  I,  by  attorney,  bless  thee  from  thy  mother,    ' 
Who  prays  continually  for  Richmond's  good : 
So  much  for  that.    The  silent  hours  steal  on, 
And  flaky  darkness  breaks  within  the  east. 
In  brief,  for  so  the  season  bids  us  be, 
Prepare  thy  battle  early  in  the  morning. 
And  put  thy  fortune  to  the  arbitrement 
Of  bloody  strokes  and  mortal-staring  war.  90 

I,  as  I  may — that  which  I  would  I  cannot, — 
With  best  advantage  will  deceive  the  time. 
And  aid  thee  in  this  doubtful  shock  of  arms : 
But  on  thy  side  I  may  not  be  too  forward. 
Lest,  being  seen,  thy  brother,  tender  George, 
Be  executed  in  his  father^s  sight. 
Farewell :  the  leisure  and  the  fearful  time 
Cuts  off  the  ceremonious  vows  of  love. 
And  ample  interchange  of  sweet  discourse, 
Which  so  long  sunder'd  friends  should  dwell  upon : 
God  give  us  leisure  for  these  rites  of  love !  10 1 

Once  more,  adieu :  be  valiant,  and  speed  well ! 

Richm.  Good  lords,  conduct  him  to  his  regiment : 

I  '11  strive,  with  troubled  thoughts,  to  take  a  nap. 
Lest  leaden  slumber  peise  me  down  to-morrow, 
When  I  should  mount  with  wings  of  victory : 
Once  more,  good  night,  kind  lords  and  gentlemen. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Richmond. 
O  Thou,  whose  captain  I  account  myself. 
Look  on  my  forces  with  a  gracious  eye ; 
Put  in  their  hands  thy  bruising  irons  of  wrath,       no 
That  they  may  crush  down  with  a  heavy  fall 
The  usurping  helmets  of  our  adversaries ! 
142 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Make  us  thy  ministers  of  chastisement, 

That  we  may  praise  thee  in  the  victory ! 

To  thee  I  do  commend  my  watchful  soul, 

Ere  I  let  fall  the  windows  of  mine  eyes : 

Sleeping  and  waking,  O,  defend  me  still  !         [Sleeps. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Prince  Edward,  son  to  Henry  the 
Sixth. 

Ghost.    [To  Richard]   Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to- 
morrow ! 
Think,  how  thou  stab'dst  me  in  my  pryne  of  youth 
At  Tewksbury :   despair,  therefore,  and  die!  120 

[To  Richmond]    Be    cheerful,    Richmond;     for   the 

wronged  souls 
Of  butcher'd  princes  fight  in  thy  behalf : 
King  Henry's  issue,  Richmond,  comforts  thee. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Henry  the  Sixth. 

Ghost.    [To  Richard]   When  I  was  mortal,  my  anointed 
body 
By  thee  was  punched  full  of  deadly  holes : 
Think  on  the  Tower  and  me  :   despair,  and  die  ! 
Harry  the  Sixth  bids  thee  despair  and  die  ! 
[To   Richmond]    Virtuous   and  holy,   be   thou  con- 
queror ! 
Harry,  that  prophesied  thou  shouldst  be  king, 
Doth  comfort  thee  in  thy  sleep  :   live,  and  flourish  ! 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Glarence. 

Ghost.   [To  Richard]   Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to- 
morrow! 131 
I,  that  was  wash'd  to  death  wuth  fulsome  wine, 
Poor  Clarence,  by  thy  guile  betray 'd  to  death. 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 

143 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  fall  thy  edgekss  sword :   despair,  and  die ! 

[To  RicJimond\    Thou    offspring    of    the    house   of 

Lancaster, 
The  wronged  heirs  of  York  do  pray  for  thee : 
Good  angels  guard  thy  battle !   live,  and  flourish ! 

Enter  the  Ghosts  of  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan. 

Ghost  of  R.    [To  RicJiard]  Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul 
to-morrow, 
Rivers,  that  died  at  Pomfret !   despair,  and  die !      140 
Ghost  of  G.    [To  Richard^  Think  upon  Grey,  and  let  thy 

soul  despair! 
Ghost  of  V.    [To  Richard]   Think  upon  Vaughan,  and, 
with  guilty  fear, 
Let  fall  thy  lance :   despair,  and  die ! 
All,   [To  Richmond]    Awake,  and  think  our  wrongs  in 
Richard's  bosom 
Will  conquer  him  !   awake,  and  win  the  day ! 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Hastings. 

Ghost.    [To  Richard]  Bloody  and  guilty,  guiltily  awake, 
And  in  a  bloody  battle  end  thy  days  ! 
Think  on  Lord  Hastings  :   despair,  and  die ! 
[To    Richmond]     Quiet    untroubled    soul,    awake! 

awake ! 
Arm,  fight,  and  conquer,  for  fair  England's  sake ! 

Enter  the  Ghosts  of  the  tzvo  young  Princes. 

Ghosts.    [To  Richard]  Dream  on  thy  cousins  smothered  in 
the  Tower:  151 

Let  us  be  lead  within  thy  bosom,  Richard, 
And  weigh  thee  down  to  ruin,  shame,  and  death! 
Thy  nephews'  souls  bid  thee  despair  and  die ! 
144 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

[To  Richmond]  Sleep,  Richmond,  sleep  in  peace,  and 

wake  in  joy; 
Good  angels  guard  thee  from  the  boar's  annoy ! 
Live,  and  beget  a  happy  race  of  kings ! 
Edward's  unhappy  sons  do  bid  thee  flourish. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Lady  Anne  his  wife. 
Ghost,   [To  Richard]   Richard,  thy  wife,  that  wretched 
Anne  thy  wife. 
That  never  slept  a  quiet  hour  with  thee,  i6o 

Now  fills  thy  sleep  with  perturbations : 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me. 
And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword  :   despair,  and  die  ! 
[To  Richmond]  Thou  quiet  soul,  sleep  thou  a  quiet 

sleep : 
Dream  of  success  and  happy  victory ! 
Thy  adversary's  wife  doth  pray  for  thee. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  Buckingham. 
Ghost.    [To  Richard]   The  first  was  I  that  helped  thee  t") 
the  crown ; 
The  last  was  I  that  felt  thy  tyranny : 
O,  in  the  battle  think  on  Buckingham, 
And  die  in  terror  of  thy  guiltiness  !  170 

Dream  on,  dream  on,  of  bloody  deeds  and  death : 
Fainting,  despair  ;   despairing,  yield  thy  breath  ! 
[To  Richmond]  I  died  for  hope  ere  I  could  lend  thee 

aid: 
But  cheer  thy  heart,  and  be  thou  not  dismay 'd  : 
God  and  good  angels  fight  on  Richmond's  side ; 
And  Richard  falls  in  height  of  all  his  pride. 

[The  Ghosts  vanish.    King  Richard 
starts  out  of  his  dream. 
K.  Rich.  Give  me  another  horse :   bind  up  my  wounds. 
Have  mercy,  Jesu ! — Soft !   I  did  but  dream. 

145 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

0  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me ! 
The  Hghts  burn  blue.    It  is  now  dead  midnight. 
Cold  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh.      i8i 
What  do  I  fear  ?  myself  ?  there  's  none  else  by : 
Richard  loves  Richard ;   that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here  ?    No.    Yes,  I  am  : 

Then  fly.    What,  from  myself  ?    Great  reason  why : 

Lest  I  revenge.    What,  myself  upon  myself  ? 

Alack,  I  love  myself.    Wherefore  ?  for  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself  ? 

O,  no !  alas,  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself!  190 

1  am  a  villain :  yet  I  lie,  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well :  fool,  do  not  flatter. 
My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 
And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale. 
And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 
Perjury,  perjury,  in  the  high'st  degree  ; 
Murder,  stern  murder,  in  the  direst  degree ; 
All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree. 
Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all  '  Guilty !  guilty ! ' 
I  shall  despair.    There  is  no  creature  loves  me ; 
And  if  I  die,  no  soul  will  pity  me :  201 

Nay,  wherefore  should  they,  since  that  I  myself 
Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself  ? 
Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murder'd 
Came  to  my  tent,  and  every  one  did  threat 
To-morrow's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard. 

Enter  Rat  cliff. 
Rat.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  'Zounds  !    who  is  there  ? 

146 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Rat,  Ratcliff,  my  lord;   'tis  L    The  early  village-cock 
Hath  twice  done  salutation  to  the  morn  ;  210 

Your  friends  are  up,  and  buckle  on  their  armour. 
K  Rich.  O  RatcUff,  I  have  dream'd  a  fearful  dream ! 

What   thinkest     thou,    will    our    friends    prove    all 
true? 
RaL  No  doubt,  my  lord. 

j^^  jlick,  O  Ratcliff,  I  fear,  I  fear,— 

Rat.  Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  afraid  of  shadows. 
K  Rich.  By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 

Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard, 

Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers 

Armed  in  proof,  and  led  by  shallow  Richmond. 

It  is  not  yet  near  day.    Come,  go  with  me ;  220 

Under  our  tents  I  '11  play  the  eaves-dropper, 

To  see  if  any  mean  to  shrink  from  me.  {txeunt. 

Enter  the  Lords  to  Richmond,  sitting  in  his  tent. 

Lords.  Good  morrow,  Richmond ! 

Richni    Crv  mercv,  lords  and  watchful  gentlemen. 
That  you  have  ta'en  a  tardy  sluggard  here. 

Lords.  How  have  you  slept,  my  lord? 

Richm.  The  sweetest  sleep,  and  fairest-boding  dreams 
That  ever  enter'd  in  a  drowsy  head, 
Have  I  since  your  departure  had,  my  lords^ 
Methought  their  souls,  whose  bodies  Richard  mur- 
der'd,  .  ^^° 

Came  to  my  tent,  and  cried  on  victory : 
I  promise  you,  my  soul  is  very  jocund 
In  the  remembrance  of  so  fair  a  dream. 
How  far  into  the  morning  is  it,  lords . 
Lords.  Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

147 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Richm,  Why,  then  'tis  time  to  arm  and  give  direction. 

HIS  ORATION  TO  HIS  SOLDIERS. 

More  than  I  have  said,  loving  countrymen, 

The  leisure  and  enforcement  of  the  time 

Forbids  to  dwell  upon  :  yet  remember  this, 

God  and  our  good  cause  fight  upon  our  side ;         240 

The  prayers  of  holy  saints  and  wronged  souls, 

Like  high-rear'd  bulwarks,  stand  before  our  faces 

Richard  except,  those  whom  we  fight  against 

Had  rather  have  us  win  than  him  they  follow : 

For  what  is  he  they  follow  ?  truly,  gentlemen, 

A  bloody  tyrant  and  a  homicide ; 

One  raised  in  blood,  and  one  in  blood  establish'd ; 

One  that  made  means  to  come  by  what  he  hath, 

And  slaughter'd  those  that  were  the  means  to  help 

him; 
A  base  foul  stone,  made  precious  by  the  foil  250 

Of  England's  chair,  where  he  is  falsely  set ; 
One  that  hath  ever  been  God's  enemy  ; 
Then,  if  you  fight  against  God's  enemy, 
God  will  in  justice  ward  you  as  his  soldiers;' 
If  you  do  sweat  to  put  a  tyrant  down, 
You  sleep  in  peace,  the  tyrant  being  slain ; 
If  you  do  fight  against  your  country's  foes. 
Your  country's  fat  shall  pay  your  pains  the  hire ; 
If  you  do  fight  in  safeguard  of  your  wives, 
Your  wives  shall  welcome  home  the  conquerors ; 
If  you  do  free  your  children  from  the  sword,         261 
Your  children's  children  quit  it  in  your  age. 
Then,  in  the  name  of  God  and  all  these  rights, 
Advance  your  standards,  draw  your  willing  swords. 

148 


KING  RICHARD  IIL  Act  V.  Sc.  Hi. 

For  me,  the  ransom  of  my  bold  attempt 

Shall  be  this  cold  corpse  on  the  earth's  cold  face; 

But  if  I  thrive,  the  gain  of  my  attempt 

The  least  of  you  shall  share  his  part  thereof. 

Sound  drums  and  trumpets  boldly  and  cheerfully ; 

God  and  Saint  George !    Richmond  and  victory  ! 

[Exeunt.     270 

Re-enter  King  Richard,  RatcUff,  Attendants  and  Forces. 

K.  Rich.  What  said  Northumberland  as  touching  Rich- 
mond? 
Rat.  That  he  was  never  trained  up  in  arms. 
K  Rich.  He  said  the  truth  :   and  what  said  Surrey,  then? 
Rat.  He  smiled  and  said  '  The  better  for  our  purpose.' 
A'.  Rich.  He  was  in  the  right ;   and  so  indeed  it  is. 

[The  clock  striketh. 

Tell  the  clock  there.    Give  me  a  calendar. 

Who  saw  the  sun  to-day? 
j^^f^  Not  I,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Then  he  disdains  to  shine ;   for  by  the  book 

He  should  have  braved  the  east  an  hour  ago : 

A  black  dav  will  it  be  to  somebody.  280 

RatcHff! 
Rat,  My  lord? 
K.  Rich.  The  sun  will  not  be  seen  to-day ; 

The  sky  doth  frown  and  lour  upon  our  army. 

I  would  these  dewy  tears  were  from  the  ground. 

Not  shine  to-day !    Why,  what  is  that  to  me 

More  than  to  Richmond?  for  the  selfsame  heaven 

That  frowns  on  me  looks  sadly  upon  him. 

Re-enter  Norfolk. 
Nor.  Arm,  arm,  my  lord ;  the  foe  vaunts  in  the  field. 

149 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

K.  Rich.  Come,  bustle,  bustle.     Caparison  my  horse. 

Call  up  Lord  Stanley,  bid  him  bring-  his  power :    290 
I  will  lead  forth  my  soldiers  to  the  plain, 
And  thus  my  battle  shall  be  ordered : 
My  foreward  shall  be  drawn  out  all  in  length, 
Consisting  equally  of  horse  and  foot ; 
Our  archers  shall  be  placed  in  the  midst : 
John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas-  Earl  of  Surrey, 
Shall  have  the  leading  of  this  foot  and  horse. 
They  thus  directed,  we  will  follow 
In  the  main  battle,  whose  puissance  on  either  side 
Shall  be  well  winged  with  our  chiefest  horse.  300 

This,  and  Saint  George  to  boot !    What  think' st  thou, 
Norfolk? 

Nor.  A  good  direction,  warlike  sovereign. 
This  found  I  on  my  tent  this  morning. 

[He  sheiveth  him  a  paper. 

K.  Rich.    [Reads]  '  Jockey  of  Norfolk,  be  not  so  bold, 
For  Dickon  thy  master  is  bought  and  sold.' 
A  thing  devised  by  the  enemy. 
Go,  gentlemen,  every  man  unto  his  charge : 
Let  not  our  babbling  dreams  affright  our  souls  : 
Conscience  is  but  a  word  that  cowards  use. 
Devised  at  first  to  keep  the  strong  in  awe:  310 

Our  strong  arms  be  our  conscience,  swords  our  law. 
March  on,  join  bravely,  let  us  to  't  pell-mell ; 
If  not  to  heaven,  then  hand  in  hand  to  hell. 

HIS  ORATION  TO   HIS  ARMY. 

What  shall  I  say  more  than  I  have  inferred? 
Remember  whom  you  are  to  cope  withal ; 
A  sort  of  vagabonds,  rascals,  and  runaways, 

150 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

A  scum  of  Bretons,  and  base  lackey  peasants. 

Whom  their  o'er-cloyed  country  vomits  forth 

To  desperate  ventures  and  assured  destruction. 

You  sleeping  safe,  they  bring  to  you  unrest ;  320 

You  having  lands  and  blest  with  beauteous  wives. 

They  would  restrain  the  one,  distain  the  other. 

And  who  doth  lead  them  but  a  paltry  fellow, 

Long  kept  in  Bretagne  at  our  mother's  cost  ? 

A  milk-sop,  one  that  never  in  his  life 

Felt  so  much  cold  as  over  shoes  in  snow  ? 

Let 's  whip  these  stragglers  o'er  the  seas  again, 

Lash  hence  these  overweening  rags  of  France, 

These  famish'd  beggars,  weary  of  their  lives, 

Who,  but  for  dreaming  on  this  fond  exploit,  330 

For  want  of  means,  poor  rats,  had  hang'd  themselves  : 

If  we  be  conquer'd,  let  men  conquer  us. 

And  not  these  bastard  Bretons,  whom  our  fathers 

Have  in  their  own  land  beaten,  bobb'd,  and  thump'd. 

And  in  record  left  them  the  heirs  of  shame. 

Shall  these  enjoy  our  lands?  lie  with  our  wives? 

Ravish  our  daughters?     [Drum  afar  0 if .]     Hark!    I 

hear  their  drum. 
Fight,  gentlemen  of  England !  fight,  bold  yeomen  ! 
Draw,  archers,  draw  your  arrows  to  the  head ! 
Spur  your  proud  horses  hard,  and  ride  in  blood ;   340 
Amaze  the  welkin  with  your  broken  staves ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

What  says  Lord  Stanley  ?  will  he  bring  his  power  ? 
Mess.  My  lord,  he  doth  deny  to  come. 
K.  Rich.  Off  with  his  son  George's  head ! 
Nor,  My  lord,  the  enemy  is  past  the  marsh : 

151 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

After  the  battle  let  George  Stanley  die. 
K.  Rich.  A  thousand  hearts  are  great  within  my  bosom : 
Advance  our  standards,  set  upon  our  foes  ; 
Our  ancient  word  of  courage,  fair  Saint  George, 
Inspire  us  with  the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons  !  350 

Upon  them!    Victory  sits  on  our  helms.        [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Another  part  of  the  Held. 

Alarum:  excursions.    Enter  Norfolk  and  forces  fighting; 
to  him  Catesby. 

Gate.  Rescue,  my  Lord  of  Norfolk,  rescue,  rescue  i 
The  king  enacts  more  wonders  than  a  man. 
Daring  an  opposite  to  every  danger : 
His  horse  is  slain,  and  all  on  foot  he  fights, 
Seeking  for  Richmond  in  the  throat  of  death. 
Rescue,  fair  lord,  or  else  the  day  is  lost ! 

Alarums.    Enter  King  Richard.  . 

K.  Rich.  A  horse !  9l  horse !  my  kingdom  for  a  horseJ_^ 
Gate.  Withdraw,  my  lord ;  I  '11  help  you  to  a  horse. 
K.  Rich.  Slave,  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast. 

And  I  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die.  10 

I  think  there  be  six  Richmonds  in  the  field  ; 

Five  have  I  slain  to-day  instead  of  him. 

A  horse !  a  horse !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse ! 

[Exeunt. 


152 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Act  V.  Sc.  v. 

Scene  V. 

Another  part  of  the  field. 

Alarum.  Enter  Richard  and  Richmond;  they  fight 
Richard  is  slain.  Retreat  and  fiourish.  Re-enter 
Richmond,  Derby  hearing  the  crown,  with  divers 
other  Lords. 

Richm.  God  and  your  arms  be  praised,  victorious  friends  ! 
The  day  is  ours ;  the  bloody  dog  is  dead. 

Der.  Courageous  Richmond,  well  hast  thou  acquit  thee. 
Lo,  here,  this  long  usurped  royalty 
From  the  dead  temples  of  this  bloody  wretch 
Have  I  pluck' d  off,  to  grace  thy  brows  withal : 
Wear  it,  enjoy  it,  and  make  much  of  it. 

Richm.  Great  God  of  heaven,  say  amen  to  all ! 

But,  tell  me,  is  young  George  Stanley  living? 

Der.  He  is,  my  lord,  and  safe  in  Leicester  town  ;  lo 

Whither,  if  it  please  you,  we  may  now  withdraw  us. 

Richm.  What  men  of  name  are  slain  on  either  side  ? 

Der.  John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Walter  Lord  Ferrers, 

Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  and  Sir  William  Brandon. 

Richm.  Inter  their  bodies  as  becomes  their  births : 
Proclaim  a  pardon  to  the  soldiers  fled. 
That  in  submission  will  return  to  us : 
And  then,  as  we  have  ta'en  the  sacrament, 
We  will  unite  the  white  rose  and  the  red. 
Smile  heaven  upon  this  fair  conjunction,  20 

That  long  have  f rown'd  upon  their  enmity ! 
What  traitor  hears  me,  and  says  not  amen  ? 
England  hath  long  been  mad,  and  scarr'd  herself ; 
The  brother  blindly  shed  the  brother's  blood, 
The  father  rashly  slaughter' d  his  own  son, 

153 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  son,  compeU'd,  been  butcher  to  the  sire : 

All  this  divided  York  and  Lancaster, 

Divided  in  their  dire  division, 

O,  now  let  Richmond  and  Elizabeth, 

The  true  succeeders  of  each  royal  house,  30 

By  God's  fair  ordinance  conjoin  together! 

And  let  their  heirs,  God,  if  thy  will  be  so,  ' 

Enrich  the  time  to  come  with  smooth-faced  peace, 

With  smiling  plenty  and  fair  prosperous  days ! 

Abate  the  edge  of  traitors,  gracious  Lord, 

That  would  reduce  these  bloody  days  again. 

And  make  poor  England  weep  in  streams  of  blood ! 

Let  them  not  live  to  taste  this  land's  increase. 

That   would   with   treason    wound   this    fair   land's 

peace ! 
Now  civil  wounds  are  stopp'd,  peace  lives  again :    40 
That  she  may  long  live  here,  God  say  amen ! 

[Exeunt. 


IS4 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Glossary. 


Abate,  make  dull,  blunt;  V.  v. 

35. 

Abjects,  "the  most  servile  of 
subjects  "  ;  I.  i.  106. 

Abroach;  "set  a.,"  am  the 
cause  of;  I.  iii.  325. 

Account,  number,  reckoning; 
V.  iii.   II. 

Account,  count  upon  (used 
quibblingly)  ;  'For  they  ac- 
count his  head  upon  the 
bridge,'  i.e.  on  Traitors'  Gate 
at  the  Southwark  end  of 
London  Bridge;  III.  ii.  72. 


Traitors'  Gate. 

From  Visscher's  View  of  London, 

c.  1620. 

Acquit,  acquitted;  V.  v.  3. 
Acquittance,    acquit;    III,    vii. 

Adulterate,  adulterous;  IV.  iv. 

69. 
Advance,  raise;  V.  iii.  264. 


Advantage,  /opportunity  (Fo- 
lios, "vantage")  ;   III.  v.  74. 

Advantaging,  increasing;  IV. 
iv.  222,. 

Adventure,  risk,  hazard;  I.  iii, 
116. 

Adverse,  opposing ;  IV.  iv.  190. 

Advertised,  informed;  IV.  iv. 
501. 

Advised,  "  well  a./'  in  sound 
senses,  "not  mad";  I.  iii, 
318. 

Advised,  "  be  a.."  reflect,  con- 
sider;  II.  i.  107. 

Aery,  brood  of  an  eagle  or 
hawk,  a  brood  of  nestlings ; 
I.  iii.  264. 

Affected;  "doth  stand  a.,"'  is 
disposed;  III.  i.  171. 

A-high,  on  high;  IV.  iv.  86. 

Almost;  "cannot  almost,"  i.e. 
can  hardly ;  II.  iii.  39. 

Amace,  affright;  V,  iii.  341. 

Ambling,  moving  in  an  affected 
manner  ;   I.  i.  17, 

Amity,  friendship;  I.  iii.  2S1. 

Ancient,  old;  III,  i.  182. 

Annoy,  injury,  harm;  V.  iii. 
156. 

Anointed,  consecrated  by  unc- 
tion ;  one  of  the  ceremonials 
in  the  coronation  of  sover- 
eigns ;    IV.  i.  62, 

Anszver,  ^answ^er  for,  be  re- 
sponsible for ;  IV-  ii.  97. 


155 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Apparent,  manifest;  III.  v.  30. 
Arhitrement,    decision;    V.    iii. 

^- 

Arch,  wicked ;  IV.  iii.  2. 

As,  that  (Folios,  "  that")  ;  III. 

iv.  40. 
At  once,  in  brief,  without  more 

ado;  III,  iv.  i. 
Atonement,    reconciliation;     I. 

iii.  36. 
Attainder,  taint;  III.  v.  32. 
Attorney;   "by  a.,"  by  proxy; 

V.  iii.  83. 
Aweless,     inspiring     no     awe 

(Quartos,    "  lawlesse")  ;    II. 

iv.  52. 

Baited  at,  harassed,  worried;  I. 
iii.    log. 

Bar,  debar,  exclude;  III.  ii.  54. 

Barbed,  armed  and  harnessed 
for  war  ;  I.  i,  10. 

Basilisk,  the  fabulous  creature 
supposed  to  kill  by  its  look ; 
V.   "cockatrice"  ;    I.  ii.  151. 

Battalion,  army  (Folios,  "Bat- 
talia "  ;  perhaps  =  Italian 
battaglia,  battle)  ;  V.  iii.   11. 

Battle,  army ;  V.  iii.  88. 

Baynard's  Castle,  the  residence 


of  Richard,  Duke  of  York; 

on      south      bank      of      the 

Thames ;  III.  v.  98. 
Beads,  rosary ;  III.  vii.  93. 
Beaver,  helmet ;  V.  iii.  50. 
Beholding,  beholden;  II.  i.  129. 
Belike,  perhaps,  probably;   I.  i. 

49- 
Best;  "  were  b.,"  had  better ;  I. 

i.  100. 
Betide,  become  ;  I.  iii.  6. 
Bettering,  magnifying;  IV.  iv. 

122. 
Bid,  bore  ;  IV.  iv.  304. 
Bobb'd,  drubbed,  thumped;  V. 

iii-  334- 
Book,  note-book;    III.  v.  27. 
Boot,  given   into  the  bargain : 

IV.  iv.  65. 

Boot,  "  to  b.,"  i.e.  for  our  help  ; 

V.  iii.  301. 

Bootless,  useless ;  III.  iv.  104. 

Bottled,  bloated;  I.  iii.  242. 

Bought  and  sold,  deceived,  be- 
trayed ;  a  proverbial  phrase ; 
V.  iii.  305- 

Braved,  made  brave,  adorned; 
V.  iii.  279. 

Brecknock,  Brecknock  Castle 
in  South  Wales :  IV.  ii.  126. 


Baynard's  Castle. 
From  Aggas's  Ma/>  of  Lo?idon,  preserved  in  GuildbaU 

156 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Glossary 


Bridge,     i.e.     London     Bridge, 

where  the  heads  of  traitors 

were  placed;   III.ii.72.    (Cp. 

s.v.  'Account.') 
Brief,  quick,  speedy ;  II.  ii.  43. 
Broken,  broken  up,  done  away 

with  ;  II.  ii.  117. 
Brook' d,   borne,    endured;    Li. 

125- 
Bruising       irons,       destroying 

weapons ;     referring    to    the 

heavy    iron    maces    used    in 

battle;  V.  iii.  no. 
Bulk,  body;  I.  iv.  40. 
Bunch-back'd,      hunch-backed ; 

I.  iii.  246. 
Burthen  d,  burdensome  ;  IV.  iv. 

III. 
Bustle,  stir,  be  active;  I.  i.  152. 
But,  only;  I.  iii.  194. 
By,  near,  close  at  hand ;  IV.  ii. 

104. 

Cacodemon,  evil  demon,  evil 
spirit ;  I.  iii.  144. 

Caitiff,  wretch  ;  IV.  iv.  100. 

Capable,  quick  to  apprehend,  of 
good   capacity;    III.  i.  155. 

Caparison,  put  on  the  trap- 
pings, cover  with  a  horse- 
cloth ;  V.  iii.  289. 

Careful,  full  of  care ;  I.  iii.  83. 

Carnal,  flesh-eating,  blood- 
thirsty ;   IV.  iv.  56. 

Censures,  opinions ;  II.  ii.   144. 

Chair,  throne;   IV.  iv.  470. 

Chamber,  London  was  called 
the  king's  chamber  soon 
after  the  Conquest;  III.  i.  i. 

Characters,  used  quibblingly  in 
double     sense     (i)      written 


signs.  (2)  marked  disposi- 
tions; III.  i.8i. 

Charge,  command,  post;  V.  iii. 
25- 

Charge;  "  given  in  c."  com- 
manded;  I.  i.  85. 

Charges,  expense;  I.  ii.  256. 

Charity;  "  my  charity,"  the 
charity  shown  to  me ;  I  iii. 
277. 

Cheerly,  cheerfully;  V.  ii.  14. 

Christian  (trisyllabic)  ;  III.  v. 
26. 

Circumstance,  detailed  argu- 
ment ;  I.  ii.  77. 

Cited  up,  recounted ;  I.  iv.  14. 

Close,  strictly  confined ;  IV.  ii. 

54- 
Close,    secret;    Li.  158;    IV.  ii. 

35- 
Closely,  secretly;   III.  i.  159. 
Closure,  enclosure;  III.  iii.  11. 
Cloudy,   having   cloudy   looks ; 

II.  ii.  112. 
Cockatrice,  a  fabulous  creature 

supposed     to     kill     by     its 

glance ;    (z^.  "  basilisk  '')  ;  IV. 

,  i-  55- 

Cock-shut  time,  twilight 
("  cock-shut "  :=  a.  kind  of 
net  used  for  catching  wood- 
cocks, generally  set  in  the 
dusk  of  the  evening)  ;  V.  iii. 
70. 

Cog,  deceive,  cheat ;  I.  iii.  48. 

Competitors,  confederates ;  IV. 
iv.  506. 

Complots,  plots ;  III.  i.  192. 

Conceit,  conception,  idea;  III. 
iv.  51. 

Concluded,  officially  recorded ; 
I.  iii.  IS. 


157 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Condition,    disposition;    IV.  iv. 

157- 
Conduct,  escort ;   I.  i.  45. 
Coniirm'd;    "  thy    age    c,"    thy 

riper  years;   IV.  iv.  171. 
Consequence,   sequel ;    IV.  iv.  6. 
Considerate,   observant ;    IV.  ii. 

30. 
Consorted,   joined,    associated; 

III.  iv.  73. 
Content,    pay,    satisfy;    III.    ii. 

113. 
Contract,   contracted;    III.    vii. 

179. 
Conversation,  intercourse;   III. 

V.31. 

Conveyance;  "  madest  quick 
c,"  quickly  removed  ;  IV.  iv. 
283. 

Convict,  convicted;  I.  iv.  192. 

Corse,  corpse,  body;  I.  ii.  32. 

Costard,  a  humorous  expres- 
sion for  the  head ;  properly, 
a  kind  of  apple;  I.  iv.  159. 

Counted,  accounted ;   IV.  i.  47. 

Cousins,  grandchildren  ;  II.  ii. 
8;  nephew;   III.  i.  2. 

Coverfst,  most   secret ;    III.   v. 

33- 

Cozen'd,  cheated,  deceived 
(with  a  play  .  upon  "  cous- 
ins") ;  IV.  iv.  222. 

Crosby  Place,  the  palace  of 
Richard,  when  Duke  of 
Gloster,  still  standing  in 
Bishopsgate  Street  (Folios 
"  Crosby  House  ")  ;  I.  ii.  213. 

Cross-row,  alphabet ;  "  so- 
called,  according  to  some, 
from  the  cross  anciently 
placed  before  it  to  indicate 
that   religion   was   the   chief 


end  of  learning ;  or,  as  others 
say,  from  a  superstitious 
custom  of  writing  the  alpha- 
bet in  the  form  of  a  cross. 
by  way  of  charm"  (Nares)  ; 
originally  "  Christ-cross- 

row  "  ;  corrupted  into  "  criss- 
row " ;  then  into  "  cross- 
rozv";  I.  i.  55. 

Crown,  head;  III.  ii.  43. 

Current,  genuine;  I.  ii.  84. 

Curst,  shrewish;  I.  ii.  49. 

Dally,  trifle;  II.  i.  12. 

Dangerous;  "  d.  success," 
doubtful   issue ;    IV.   iv.   236. 

Date,  term,  period  of  dura- 
tion; IV.  iv.  254. 

Dear,  extreme;  I.  iv.  215. 

Dear,  used  in  double  sense 
(i)  dearly  loved,  (2)  in- 
tensely severe;  II.  ii.  77. 

Death;  "the  d.,"  an  old  idiom 
especially  used  with  refer- 
ence to  penal  death ;  I.  ii. 
179. 


Crosby  Place. 
From  Aggas's  Map  of  London,  pre- 
served in  Guildhall, 

Debase,   lower,    degrade    (Fol- 
ios,  "  abase  '')  ;    I.    ii.   247. 
Declension,    decline ;     III,    vii. 


158 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Glossary 


Decline,  "  run  through  from 
first  to  last,  as  in  dedining 
or  giving  the  cases  of  a  noun, 
in  grammar"  (Malone)  ; 
IV.  iv.  97. 

Defend,  forbid;  III.  vii.  173. 

Defused,  disordered,  shape- 
less; "defused  (Folios  3, 
4,  diifus'd,  infection "  sug- 
gested by  "  divine  perfec- 
tion," I.  75)  ;  I.  ii.  78. 

Demise,  grant,  bequeath;  (Fo- 
lios 2,  3,  4,  "devise")  ;  IV. 
iv.  247. 

Denier,  the  smallest  coin ;  a 
tenth  part  of  a  penny;  I.  ii. 
252. 

Deny,  refuse ;  V.  iii.  343. 

Descant,  variations  on  a  plain- 
song;  III.  vii.  49. 

Descant,  used  probably  in  its 
technical  sense,  "  to  sing  a 
part  extempore  upon  a  plain- 
song  " ;  I.  i.  27. 

Descried,  spied  out,  discov- 
ered ;  V.  iii.  9. 

Determined,  resolved  upon;  I. 
iii.  15. 

Determine    of,     decide     upon; 

III.  iv.  2. 

Devoted,  pious,  holy;  I.  ii.  35. 
Devotion,      engrossing      love ; 

IV.  i.  9. 

Dickon,  Dick;  V.  iii.  305. 
Diet,  mode  of  life;  I.  i.  139. 
Direction;      "of      sound      d./' 
skillful    in    military    attacks; 

V.  iii.  16. 

Disgracious,  unpleasing ;  III. 
vii.  112;  ungracious;  IV.  iv. 
177. 


Dissemble,  "  d.  not,"  do  not 
eloss  over;  II.  i.  8. 

/   ssemhling,  deceitful ;  I.  i.  19. 

Dissentious,  seditious,  breed- 
ing discord  (Quarto  2, 
"  discentions") ',   I.   iii.  46. 

Distain,  stain,  defile ;  V.  iii. 
222. 

Distraught,   distracted;    III.  v. 

4. 

Divided,  separate;  ("divided 
councils,"  i.e.  "a  private 
consultation,  separate  from 
the  known  and  public  coun- 
cils ")  ;  III.  i.  179. 

Dread,  inspiring  with  rever- 
ence (all  editions  with  ex- 
ception of  Quartos  i,  2  read 
'  deare")  ;  III.  i.  97. 

Effect,  execution  ;  I.  ii.  120. 

Egally,  equally;  III.  vii.  213. 

Elvish-mark' d,  marked  and 
disfigured  by  the  fairies  (Fo- 
lios I,  2,  "  eluish  marked"; 
Folio  3,  "  elvish  mark'd ")  ; 
I.  iii.  228. 

Ely  House,  in  Holhorn;  III. 
iv.  32-3. 


¥'bj^[<tfc 


From  Aggas's  Map  of  London,  pre- 
served in  GuildhalL 


159 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Embassage,  embassy,  mes- 
sage; II.  i.  3. 

Emhracements,  embraces;  II. 
i.  30. 

Empery,  empire ;    III,  vli.   136. 

Enacts,  performs ;   V.   iv.   2. 

Endured  of,  endured  by;  IV. 
iv.  304. 

Enforced,  forced ;  III.  v.  46. 

Enforcement,  compulsion;  III. 
vii.  233. 

Enfranchise,  release;  I.  i.   no. 

England  (trisyllabic)  ;  IV.  iv. 
263. 

Engross,  make  gross,  pamper; 
III.  vii.  76. 

Ensuing,  impending  (Folios 
"pursuing")',   II.  iii.  43- 

Entertain,   employ;    I.    ii.   257. 

Entreat,  treat,  use;  IV.  iv.  151. 

Entreats,  entreaties;  {"en- 
treaties") ;   III.   vii.  225. 

Envious,  malicious ;  I.  iii.  26. 

Envy,  hatred;  IV.  i.  100. 

Erroneous,  mistaken;  I.  iv. 
194. 

Excellent,  supreme;  IV.  iv.  52. 

Except,  excepted;    V.   iii.   243. 

Exclaims,  exclamations,  out- 
cries ;  I.  ii.  52. 

Exercise,  technically,  an  ex- 
position of  Scripture;  per- 
formance of  religious  duties ; 
III.  ii.  112. 

Exhales,  draws  forth ;  I.  ii. 
58. 

Expedient,    expeditious;    I.    ii. 

217- 

Expiate   (v.  note)  ;  III.  iii.  23. 
Extremity,   extreme    measure; 
I.  i.  65. 


Factious   for,   partisans   of;    I. 

iii.   128. 
Fain,  gladly;   I.  iv.  273. 
Fair,  well;  IV.  iv.  151. 
Fairest-boding,        prophesying 

success,    of   good   omen ;    V. 

iii.  227. 
Faithful;     "  f.     man,"     i.e.     a 

believer,    not    an    infidel ;     I. 

iv.  4. 
Fall,  let  fall;  V.  iii.  135. 
False-boding,  prophesy  in  g 

falsely ;    I.   iii.  247. 
Father-in-law,    step-father ;    V. 

iii.  81. 
Faultless,  innocent;  I.  iii.   178. 
Fear;    "  fear    him,"    fear    for 

him,  are  anxious  about  him ; 

I.  i.  137. 
Fearful,   filled   with   fear ;    IV. 

ii.  126. 

,  full  of  fear;  I.  i.  11. 

Feature,  form,  shape ;   I.  i.   19. 
Field,        battle-field        (Folios 

"  ground  ")  ;  V.  iii.   15. 
Fire-new,    brand    new,     fresh 

from  the  mint;  I.  iii.  256. 
Flaky,  "  scattering  like  flakes" ; 

V.  iii.  86. 
Fleeting,   inconstant,   fickle;    I. 

iv.  55. 
Flesh'd,   hardened ;    IV.    iii.    6. 
Flourish,  mere   ornament,   em- 
bellishment ;   I.   iii.  241. 
Flouted,      scorned       (Quartos, 

"scorned") ;   II.   i.   78. 
Foil,    metal    placed    beneath    a 

gem    to    set    it    off    (Folios, 

"  soyle  ")  ;  V.  iii.  250. 
Fond,    foolish    (Folios,    "sim- 
ple") ;  III.  ii.  26. 


160 


KING  RICHARD  III 


Glossary 


Foot-cloth  horse,  horse  with  a 
foot-cloth  or  housings;  III. 
iv.  86. 

For;  "  for  hope,"  as  regards 
hope ;  for  want  of  hope 
(Theobald,  "for  holpe"; 
Steevens,  "  forholpe"  ;  Han- 
mer,  "  forsoke  "  ;  Tyrwhitt, 
"  foredone  ")  ;  V.  iii.  173, 

,  because ;  I.  i.  58. 

Foreword,    vanguard ;     V.     iii. 

293. 

Forfeit;  "the  f.  of  my  serv- 
ant's life,"  the  forfeited  life 
of  my  servant ;  II.  i.  99. 

Formal,  customary,  conven- 
tional; III.  i.  82. 

Forszvearing,  perjury;  I.  iv. 
201. 

Forth  of,  away  from ;  IV.  iv. 
176. 

Foul,  foully;   III.  ii.  44. 

Frank' d  up,  cooped  up  in  a 
frank  or  sty;  I.  iii.  314. 

French  nods,  alluding  to  the 
affectation  of  French  habits ; 
I.  iii.  49. 

From,  free  from ;  III.  v.  32 ; 
away  from,  IV.  iv.  259 ;  V. 
iii.  284. 

Fulsome,  nauseous ;  V.  iii.  132. 

Gain,  gaining;  III.  ii.  47. 
Gallant-springing,   growing   up 

in   beauty;   I.   iv.  221. 
Galled,  sore  with  weeping;  IV. 

iv.  53- 
Garish,  gaudy;  IV.  iv.  89. 
Garland,   crown ;   III.   ii.   40. 
Garter,  part  of  the  insignia  of 

the  Order  of  the  Garter;  IV. 

iv.  366. 


Gentle;  "  g.  villain,"  i.e.  nobly 
born  V. ;  an  ironical  expres- 
sion;  I.  iii.   163. 

George,  the  figure  of  St. 
George,  which  was  part  of 
the  insignia  of  the  Order  of 
the  Garter ;  IV.  iv.  366. 

Good  time  of  day,  a  common 
form  of  greeting;    I.   i.    122. 

Graced,   blessed;    IV.    iv.    174. 

Gossips,  lit.  godmothers,  hence, 
used  contemptuously  for 
people  of  influence,  patrons ; 
I.   i.   83. 

Gracious,  full  of  grace;  II.  iv. 
20. 

Gramercy,  many  thanks;  III. 
ii.   108. 

Gratulate,  congratulate ;  IV.  i. 
10. 

Graven,  engraved,  carved  (Fo- 
lios, "branded  "  ;   IV.  iv.  141. 

Gross,  stupid,  dull ;  III.  vi.  10. 

Grossly,  stupidly  (Quarto  i, 
"  Grosselie " ;  Quarto  2, 
"  Grosselie  "  \  the  rest, 
"  Grosly"^\  IV.  i.  80. 

Ground,  plain-song;  a  musical 
term;  III.  vii.  49. 

Guildhall;  III.  v.  73. 


From  Aggas's  -^fa^  of  London,  pre 
served  in  GuildhulL 


161 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


GullSj  dupes,  fools;   I.  iii.  328. 

Halberds,   battle-axes   fitted   to 

long  poles ;  I.  ii. 
Halt,  limp;   I.  i.  23. 
Handiwork,  workmanship ;  IV. 

iv.  51- 
Hap,  fortune;  I.  ii.  17. 
Haply,      perchance,      perhaps ; 

IV.  iv.  273. 
Hatches,  deck;  I.  iv.  13. 
Haught,  haughty;   II.  iii.  28. 
Have     done,     be     quiet,     cease 

(Folios,  "Peace,  peace")  ;  I. 

iii.  273. 
Have  with  you,    I  '11    go   with 

you;   III.  ii.  92. 
Heap,  throng,  crowd;  II.  i.  53. 
Hearkens     after,      listens     to, 

takes  notice  of;  I.  i.  54. 
Heavily,  sad;  II.  iii.  40. 
,     sadly,     sorrowfully ;     I. 

iv.  I. 
Heavy,     grievous      (Folios, 

" ^reeuous")  ;   IV.    iv.    187. 
Helm,  helmet;  III.  ii.  11. 
Helpless,    useless,    unavailing; 

I.   ii.    13. 
Henry,  trisyllabic ;  II.  iii.  16. 
High-reaching,    ambitious,    as- 
piring; IV.  ii.  31. 
High-szvoln,    ex.a.sperate  , 

haughty;    II.    ii.    117. 
His,  its;  IV.  iv.  369,  370,  371. 
Holp,  helped ;  I.  ii.  107. 
Honey,  honeyed;  IV.  i.  80. 
Hour   (dissyllabic)  ;   IV.  i.  83. 
Hoday!    heyday!    IV.    iv.    460. 
Hull,    lie    to,    drift    with    the 

tide ;  IV.  iv.  438. 
Humphrey  hour  {v.  note)  ;  IV. 

iv.   175- 


Idea,  image;   III.  vii.   13. 

Impatience  (quadrisyllable)  ; 
IV.  iv.  156. 

Impcacliments,  accusations ;  II. 
ii.  22. 

In,  into;  I.  ii.  259;  by,  IV.  i.  2. 

Incapable,  unable  to  under- 
stand; II.  ii.  18. 

Incensed,  set  on,  incited;  III. 
i.  152. 

Inclusive,  encircling ;  IV.  i.  59. 

Index,  prelude;  II.  ii.  149;  pro- 
logue; IV.  iv.  85. 

Induction,  prologue,  introduc- 
tion ;  IV.  iv.  5. 

Inductions  dangerous,  "  prep- 
arations for  mischief;  the 
induction  is  preparatory  to 
the  action  of  the  play " 
(Johnson)  ;  I.  i.  32. 

Infer,  allege;  III.  v.  75. 

Innocency,  innocence  (Quarto 
I,  "innocence")  ;  III.  v.  20. 

Instance,  cause ;  III.  ii.  25. 

Intelligencer,    agent;     IV.     iv. 

71- 
Intend,  pretend;  III.  vii.  45. 
Intending,   pretending;    III.   v. 

8. 
Interior,  inward ;  I.  iii.  65. 
Invocate,  invoke ;    I.  ii.  8. 
Inzvard,  intimate;   III.  iv.  8. 
Iron-witted,     insensible,     dull ; 

IV.  ii.  28. 
/   wis,    i-wis,    certainly,    truly ; 

I.  iii.  102. 

Jack,  mean,  low-born  fellow,  a 
term  of  contempt,  I.  iii.  72, 
7Z ;  '  Jack  0'  the  clock,'  a  fig- 
ure which  in  old  clocks 
struck  the  hours,  IV.  ii.  118. 


162 


KING  RICHARD  III 


Glossary 


From  the  specimen  formerly  at  St. 
Dunstan's  Church,  Fleet  Street,E,C. 

Jet,  to  Strut  proudly,  to  en- 
croach (Folios,  "jut")',  II. 
iv.  51- 

Jot,  a  little,  the  least  possible 
quantity;  II.  i.  70. 

Jumpeth,  accords;  III.  i.   11. 

Just,  as  good  as  his  word;  I. 
i.36. 

Key-cold,  extremely  cold,  used 
proverbially  (Hanmer, 'V/a3;- 
cold")  ;  I.  ii.  5- 

Labour,    work    for,    efifect;    I. 

iv.  247. 
Lackey,  footboy,  servant  (used 

adjectivally)  ;  V.  iii.  317. 


Lag,  late,  tardily;  II.  i.  QO- 
Laid,    cast    (Folios,    "cast"); 

I.  iii.  327. 
Lanced,    pierced     (Folios, 

"  lanch'd")  ;    IV.    iv.    224. 
Lap,  wrap;  II.  i.  115. 
Leisure,  the  shortness  of  time 

at  disposal;  V.  iii.  97- 
Lesson'd,  taught;   I.   iv.  240. 
Lethe,  the  waters  of  oblivion ; 

IV.  iv.  250. 
Level,  aim;   IV.  iv.  202. 
Lezvd,  vile,  base   (Taylor  conj. 

"loud")  ;  I.  iii.  61. 
IJbels,      defamatory      writings 
(the    only    instance     of     the 

word  in  Shakespeare)  ;   I.  i. 

2>2,- 

Lie,  i.e.  lie  in  prison  (used 
equivocally)  ;  I.  i.  ii5- 

Light-foot,  light-footed,  swift- 
footed;  IV.  iv.  440. 

Lightly,  commonly,  generally;. 
III.  'i.  94- 

Like,  same ;  IV.  i.  9. 

Likelihood,  sign,  indication 
(Folios,  "  liuelyhood")  ;lll. 
iv.   57- 

Likes,  pleases;  III.  iv.  51. 

Limit,  appoint ;  V.  iii.  25. 

Listed,  desired  (Folios,  ''  lust- 
ed"); III.  v.  84. 

Luxury,  lust ;  III.  v.  80. 

Makest,  dost  (notice  the  play 
upon  the  word  in  I.  165, 
"  marr'd")  ;  I.  iii.   164. 

Malapert,  saucy;  I.  iii.  255. 

Malmsey-butt,  butt  of  malmsey 
wine ;   I.   iv.   156. 

Map,  picture;  II.  iv.  54 

Mark,  listen  to;  I.  iii.  349. 


163 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Marry,  a  corruption  of  Mary; 
a  slight  oath ;  I.  iii.  98. 

Measures,  stately  dances  ;  I.  i.  8. 

Mett'st,  most  fitting ;  III.  v.  74. 

Melancholy,  (?)  surly  ("be- 
cause he  did  not  join  heart- 
ily in  his  cause/'  Malone)  ; 
V.  iii.  68. 

Mercy;  "  cry  thee  m.,"  beg 
pardon ;    I.   iii.  235. 

Mere,    absolute;    III.    vii,   233. 

Methoughts,  methought,  I 
thought  (formed  falsely  on 
the  analogy  of  "  methinks")  ; 
1.  iv.  9. 

Mezv'd  up,  imprisoned ;  I.  i.  38. 

Mid,  middle ;  V.  iii.  77. 

Miscarry,  die ;  I.  iii.  16. 

Misdoubt,  mistrust ;  III.  ii.  89. 

Model,  plan ;  V.  iii.  24. 

Mae,  more;  IV.  iv.  199. 

Monuments,  memorials ;  I.  i.  6. 

Moralise,  interpret ;   III.   i.  83. 

Mortal-staring,  "  having  a 
deadly  stare,  grim-looking  "  ; 
V.  iii.  90. 

Muse,  wonder  (Folios,  "muse 
why";  Quartos,  "wonder")  ; 
I.  iii.  305. 

Needs,  absolutely  (only  found 
in  Quarto  i ;  Collier  MS., 
"  e'en")  ;  III.  i.  141. 

Neglect,  cause  to  be  neglected ; 

III.  iv.  25. 

Neighbour    to,    familiar    with; 

IV.  ii.  43- 
New-deliver'd,    newly    released 

from  prison;  I.  i.  121. 
Nice,  trifling,  insignificant ;  III. 

vii.  175- 
Niece,  grand-daughter;  IV.  i.  i. 


Noble,  a  gold  coin  o-*^  the  value 
of  six  shillings  and  eight 
pence;  I.  iii.  82. 

Nonage,  minority;  II.  iii.  13. 

Novice,  youth;  I.  iv.  222. 

Obsequiously,   in   manner  of  a 

mourner;   I.  ii.  3. 
Occasion,    opportunity;    II.    ii. 

148. 
Odds;    "  at     o.,"     at    variance, 

quarrelling ;  II.  i.  70. 
O'erworn,  worn  out;  I.  i.  81, 
Of;  "too  late  of,"  i.e.  too  late 

for ;  III.  V.  69. 
On,  against,   I.   i.    131 ;   "  cried 

on  victory,"   i.e.   uttered  the 

cry  of  victory;  V.  iii.  231. 
One;    "all's  one   for  that,"   it 

does  not  matter;  V.  iii.  8. 
Opposite,  adversary ;   V.   iv.  3. 
Opposite  zvith,  hostile  to;  II.  ii. 

94. 

Order;  "take  o.,"  take  meas- 
ures, make  preparation  ;  I.  iv. 
282 ;   give  orders,  IV.  ii.  53. 

Ordered,  arranged,  drawn  up ; 
V.  iii.  292. 

Overgo,  exceed;  II.  ii.  61. 

Ozvls,  whose  cry  was  believed 
to  portend  death ;  IV.  iv.  509. 

Pack-horse,  beast  of  burden, 
drudge ;  I.  iii.  122. 

Painted,  counterfeit,  unreal;  I. 
iii.  241. 

Parcell'd,  divided  among  sev- 
eral; II.  ii.  81. 

Parlous,  perilous,  dangerous ; 
a  popular  pronunciation 
(Quartos,  "perilous");  II. 
iv.  35. 


164 


KING  RICHARD  III 


Glossary 


.  art,   depart    II.    i.    5 ;    divide, 

V.  iii.  26. 
Partake    of,    share,    hear ;    I.    i. 

Party,  part,  side;  I.  iii.  138; 
III.  ii.  47. 

Passing,  surpassingly ;  I.  i.  94. 

Pattern,  example;   I.  ii.  54. 

Paul's,  Old  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral, used  as  a  place  of  gen- 
eral resort   for  the   citizens ; 

III.  vi.  3. 

Pazvn'd,  pledged;   IV.  ii.  92. 
Peevish,   childish,    silly ;    I.    iii. 

194; 

Peevish-fond,  childishly  fool- 
ish (Folios,  "peevish 
found")  ;  IV.  iv.  417. 

Peise,  poise,  weigh  down ;  V. 
iii.  105. 

Pell-mell,  with  confused  vio- 
lence; V.  iii.  312. 

Pent  up,  shut  up,  imprisoned ; 

IV.  iii.  36. 

Perforce,  by  force;  III.  i.  30. 

Period,  conclusion,  finish,  I.  iii. 
237;  end,  II.  i.  44. 

Pew-fellow,  companion,  associ- 
ate (Quartos  i,  2,  "  puef el- 
low")  ;   IV.   iv.  58. 

Pill'd,  pillaged,  robbed;  I.  iii. 
159- 

Piping;  "  p.  time  of  peace,"  i.e. 
"  when  the  pipe  is  sounding 
instead  of  the  fife  " ;  the  pipe 
being  a  sign  of  peace,  as  the 
fife  was  of  war ;  I.  i.  24. 

Pitch,  the  highest  point  to 
which  a  hawk  or  falcon 
soars;  III.  vii.  188. 

Pitchers  have  ears,  a  prover- 
bial expression  probably  hav- 


ing the  force  of  "  walls  have 
ears";  according  to  some  it 
is  a  short  form  of  "  little 
pitchers    have    large    ears " ; 

II.  iv.  37- 

Plagued,  punished ;   I.   iii.   181. 

Plaints,  complaints,  moanings 
(Folios,  "woes")  ;  II.  ii.  61. 

Please  it,  may  it  please  (Fo- 
lios, "  Pleaseth")  ;  IV.  iv. 
488. 

Pleasing,  pleasure  (?)  will, 
command;  I.  i.  13. 

Pluck  on,  incite,  urge  on ;  IV. 
ii.  65. 

Post,  hasten;  III.  ii.   17. 

Power,  army,  armed  force ;  IV. 
iii.  48. 

Power;  "  utmost  p.,"  highest 
number  (Quartos,  "greatest 
number")  ;   V.   iii.   10. 

Precedent,  rough  draft ;  III.  vi. 

7- 
Prefer,  promote,  advance ;   IV. 

ii.  82. 
Prepare,    set    in    battle    array ; 

V.  iii.  88. 
Presently,       immediately,        at 

once;   I.  ii.  213. 
Prime,  first ;  IV.  iii.  19. 
Prime  of  manhood,  early  man- 
hood; IV.  iv.  170. 
Process,  order,  manner,  IV.  iii. 

32 ;  story,  IV.  iv.  253. 
Prodigious,    monstrous;    I.    ii. 

22. 
Prolonged,  put  off,  postponed ; 

III.  iv.  47. 

Promise,  assure ;  II.  iii.  2. 

Proof,  experience,  II.  iii.  43 ; 
"  in  p.,"  in  armour  that  has 
been  tested,  V.  iii.  219. 


165 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Proper,  handsome;  I.  ii.  255. 
Puissance,    power,     force;     V. 

iii.  299. 
Punch,  to  pierce  {v.  note)  ;  V. 

iii.    125. 

Quest,  inquest,  jury;  I.  iv.  183. 

Quick,  alive,  I.  ii.  65 ;  lively,  I. 
iii.  5 ;  hearty,  I.  iii.   196. 

Quit,  requite,  acquit,  IV.  iv. 
20;  requite  (Quartos  and  Fo- 
lios, "  quits  "  \  Pope, 
"quit")  ;  V.  iii.  262. 

Rag,  used  contemptuously 
(Warburton,  "zvrack");  I. 
iii.  22>2,- 

Ragged,  rugged,  rough;  IV.  i. 
102. 

Raze,  tear  away  violently  {v. 
note).  III.  iv.  84;  "razed," 
III.  ii.  II. 

Reason,  talk;   II.  iii.  39. 

Recomforture,  comfort ;  IV. 
iv.  425.  . 

Reduce,  reconduct,  bring  back ; 
II.  ii.  68;  V.  V.  36. 

Redoubted,  redoubtable ;  IV.  v. 
II. 

Re-ediUed,  rebuilt;  III.  i.  71. 

Rememhcr'd;  "  had  been  r.," 
had  thought  of  it;  II.  iv.  23. 

Remorse,  tenderness;  III.  vii. 
211. 

Remorseful,  compassionate;  I. 
ii.   156. 

Replenished,  perfect,  consum- 
mate; IV.  iii.  18. 

Resolve,  answer,  satisfy ;  IV. 
ii.  26. 

Resolved,  resolute  (  ?  "  stout- 
resolved")  ;   I.  iii.   340. 


Respect,  regard,  take  notice  of ; 

I.  iii.  296. 
Respects,    considerations;    III. 

vii.   175. 
Respite,  "  determined  r.  of  my 

wrongs,"    i.e.  the  fixed  time 

to  which  the  punishment  of 

my  wrong-doings  is  respited ; 

V.  i.   19. 
Restrain,    withhold,    keep    for 

themselves ;  V.  iii.  322. 
Retail'd,  retold,  related;  III.  i. 

77- 
Reverend,  reverent    (Quarto  i, 

"  reuerente")  ;  IV.  i.  31. 
Right  for  right,  "measure  for 

measure  "  ;  IV.  iv.   15. 
Ripe,  matured  (Quarto  i,  "my 

ripe  "  ;    Folios,    "  the    ripe  " ; 

the  rest,  "my  right");   III. 

vii.  158. 
Rood,    cross ;     "  by    the     holy 

rood,"  an  oath;  III.  ii.  yy. 
Rooting  hog,  an  allusion  to  the 

white  boar,  the  cognizance  in 

Richard's  armorial  bearings ; 

I.  iii.  228.     {Cp.  illustration.) 


Rougemont,  a  castle  in  Exeter 
(Quartos,  " Ruge-mount")  ; 
IV.   ii.    108. 


166 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Glossary 


Round,  surround ;   IV.  i.  60. 

Royal,  "  r.  battle,"  i.e.  a  battle 
on  which  a  kingdom  de- 
pended; IV.  iv.  538. 

Royalise,  make  royal;  I.  iii.  125. 

Runagate,  vagabond;  IV.  iv. 
465. 

Sacrament;  "  receive  the  holy 
s.,"  take  an  oath ;  I.  iv.  208. 

Sanctuary,  i.e.  the  s.  at  West- 
minster; II.  iv.  66. 

Scathe,  injury,  harm;  I.  iii.  317. 

Scorn,  mock,  taunt;  III.  i.  153. 

Scrivener,  professional   scribe ; 

III.  vi. 

Scroll,    letter,     paper     (Folios, 

"note")  ;  V.  iii.  41. 
Seal,   the    great    seal,    held    by 

the  Lord  Chancellor;  II.  iv. 

71- 

Seniory,      seniority,      priority ; 

(Folio  I,  "  signeurie")  ',  IV. 

iv.  36. 
Sennet,  set  of  notes  played  on 

a  trumpet ;  III.  i.  150. 
Senseless-obstinate,     unreason- 
ably obstinate ;  III.  i.  44. 
Set,  sunset ;  V.  iii.  19 
Several,   separate ;   III.   ii.   78 ; 

particular,  respective ;  V.  iii. 

25. 
Shall,   "  s.    deal   unadvisedly  "  ; 

cannot   help     acting    rashly; 

IV.  iv.  292. 

Shamefast,  shame-faced  (Fo- 
lioo,   "  shame -fac'd")  \   I.   iv. 

137. 
Sharp-provided,       quick       and 

ready,  keen ;  III.  i.  132. 
Shouldered     in,     pushed     into, 

thrust  into;  III.  vii.  128. 


Shrewd,  sharp-tongued ;  II.  iv. 

35; 

Shrift,  confession ;   III.  iv.  97. 
Shriving  work,  confession;  III. 

ii.  116. 
Sights,  sight;  IV.  i.  25. 
Silken,  soft,   effeminate ;   I.   iii. 

53. 

Sir;  "Sir  John";  the  title  of 
priests;   III,  ii.   iii. 

Sirrah,  a  form  of  greeting  to 
an  inferior;  III.  ii.  98. 

Sit,  to  sit  in  council;  III.  i.  173. 

Slower,  more  serious;  I.  ii.  116. 

Slug,  the  symbol  of  slowness ; 
III.  i.  22. 

Smooth,  flatter  (Theobald  conj. 
"sooth")  ;  I.  iii.  48. 

Smoothing,  flattering  (Quartos 
1-6,  "soothing")  ;  I.  ii.   169. 

So,  well ;  IV.  iv.  182. 

Soft,  hush;  V.  iii.  178. 

Solace,  be  happy,  have  com- 
fort; II.  iii.  30. 

Sometime,  once;  IV.  iv.  274. 

Soothe,  flatter;  I.  iii.  298. 

Sop,  anything  steeped  in  liq- 
uor; properly  the  cake  or 
wafer  which  floated  at  the 
top  of  a  prepared  drink;  I.  iv. 
157. 

Sort,  set,  pack;  V.  iii.  316. 

Sort,  make,  find ;  II.  ii.  148. 

Spicery;  "nest  of  s.,"  alluding 
to  the  phoenix  which  made 
a  nest  of  spices  as  a  funeral 
pyre,  a  new  bird  rising  from 
its  ashes  ;  IV.  iv.  424. 

Spleen,  malice,  hatred;  II.  iv. 
64;  heat,  impetuosity;  V.  iii. 
350. 


167 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Squeak' d,  shrieked;  (Folios, 
"  shriek' d")  ;  I.  iv.  54. 

Stall'd,  installed,  invested ;  I. 
iii.  2c6. 

Stands;  "  it  st.  me  much  upon," 
it  is  very  important  for  me; 

lV.ii.59- 

Startled,  started  (Folios,  Quar- 
tos 7,  8,  "started")  ;  III.  iv. 
87. 

Statues  (Quartos,  Folios, 
"statues";  Steevens  " stat- 
uas")  ;  III.  vii.  25. 

Staves,  the  shafts  of  the  lances ; 
V.  iii.  65. 

Stealing,  stealing-  on  impercept- 
ibly;   III.  vii.  168. 

Still,  constant,  continual;  IV. 
iv.  229. 

5"////,  continually,  always ;  I.  iii. 
222. 

Still  lasting,  everlasting,  per- 
petual ;  IV.  iv.  344. 

Stout,  bold ;  ?  "  s  t  0  u  t  -  r  e- 
solved";  I.  iii.  340;  v.  "re- 
solved!' 

Straitly,  strictly ;  I.  i.  85. 

Strength,  army,  force ;  V.  iii.  26. 

Stroke;  "  keep'st  the  s.,"  keep- 
est  on  striking;  IV.  ii.  118. 

Struck;  "  well  s.  in  years,"  ad- 
vanced in  age ;  I.  i.  92. 

Suborn,  procure;  IV.  iii.  4. 

Substitute,  proxy;   III.  vii.  181. 

Success,  issue  ;  IV.  iv.  236. 

Successively,  in  order  of  suc- 
cession; III.  vii.  135. 

Sudden,  quick;  I.  iii.  346. 

Suddenly,  quickly,  at  once;  IV. 
ii.  20. 

Suggestion,  instigation;  III.  ii. 
103. 


Sunder,  "in  s.,"  asunder  (Fo- 
lios, "asunder")  ;  IV.  i.  34. 

Suspects,    suspicious  ;    I.  iii.  89. 

Szvelling,  angry;  II.  i.  51. 

Sivord,  sword  of  State ;  IV.  iv. 
470. 

Tackling,  rigging;  IV.  iv.  2Z2>- 
Take  him,  strike  him ;  I.  iv.  154. 
Tall,  active,  strong;  I.  iv.  152. 
Tamworth,  on   the  borders   of 

Staffordshire   and  Warwick- 
shire; V.  ii.  13. 
Tardy;  "  ta'an  t.,"  caught  lag- 
ging; IV.  i.52. 
Tear-falling,         tear-dropping ; 

IV.  ii.  66. 
Teen,  sorrow  ;  IV.  i.  97. 
Tell,  "t.  the  clock,"  i.e.  count 

the  strokes  of  the  clock;  V. 

iii.  276. 
Tell  o'er,  re-count ;  IV.  iv.  39. 
Tempers,  moulds,   fashions ;   I. 

i.65. 
Tender,  care  for;  II.  iv.  72. 
Tendering,  having  a  care  for; 

I.  i.  44. 
Tetchy,  fretful ;  IV.  iv.  168. 
That,  so  that;  I.  ii.  163;  if  that. 

III.  vii.  157- 
Thin,  thinly  covered;  II.  i.  ii7- 
Thought;   "in   t.,"   in   silence; 

III.  vi.  14. 
Thrall,  slave  ;  IV.  i.  46. 
Tidings     ("  this     tidings,"     so 

Quartos  1-5,  and  Folio  i). 
Timeless,  untimely;  I.  ii.  117. 
Timorour,  full  of  fear  ;  IV.  i.  85. 
To,  as  to;  III.  ii.  27. 
Touch,    touchstone,    by    which 

gold  is  tested;  IV.  ii.  8;  trait, 

dash;  IV.  iv.  157. 

168 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Glossary 


Toys,  trifles,  freaks  of  imagi- 
nation; I.  i.  60. 

Troublous,  turbulent,  restless ; 
II.  iii.  5. 

Truth,  integrity;  III.  ii.94. 

Turn,  return ;  IV.  iv.  184. 

Type,  badge ;  IV.  iv.  244. 

Unadvisedly,  rashly;  IV.  iv. 
292. 

Unavoided,  not  avoided,  not 
shunned;  IV.  i.  56;  unavoid- 
able, IV.  iv.  217. 

Unblozvn,  unopened  (Folio  i, 
"  unblozved")  ;  IV.  iv.  10. 

Unhappiness,  "  evilness,"  (?) 
"disposition  to  mischief";!. 

Vnlook'd,  unlocked  for ;  I.  iii. 

214. 
U  n  m  a  n  n  e  r'  d,    unmannerly 

(Quarto  8,  "  Unmannerly  ")  ; 

I.  ii.  39. 
Unmeritable,     unmeriting,     de- 
void of  merit;  III.  vii.  155. 
Vnrespective,  unobservant ;  IV. 

ii.  29. 
Unsafiafe,     insatiate      (Folios, 

"insatiate")  ;  III.  v.  87. 
Unshapcn,   misshaped    (Folios, 

"  misliapen  ")  ;  I.  ii.  251. 
Untainted,  unaccused;    III.  vi. 

9. 
Unvalued,     invaluable,     intesti- 

mable ;  I,  iv.  27. 
Unviolable,  inviolable    (Folios, 

"  inuiolable  ")  ;  II.  i,  27. 
Upon,  "deal  u.,"  i.e.  deal  with; 

IV.  ii.  75. 

Vantage,   advantage;    I.  iii.  310. 
Vaunts,  exults ;  V.  iii.  288. 


Venom,  venomed,  poisonous;  I. 
iii.  291. 

Venom'd,  venomous;  I.  ii.20. 

Venture,  adventures  (Capell's 
emendation ;  Quartos  and 
Folios,  "adventures")  ;  V. 
iii.  319. 

Verge,  circle,  compass ;  IV.  i. 
59- 

Vice,  a  common  character  in 
the  old  morality  plays;  III.  i. 
82. 

Visitation,  visit;   III.  vii.  107. 

Vizard,  mask  (Folios  "  Vi- 
zor"); II.  ii.28. 

Voice,  vote  ;  III.  ii.  53. 

Wagging,  moving ;  III.  v.  7. 
Wail,  bewail;  II.  ii.  11. 
Want,  lack;  V.  iii.  13. 
Ward,   guard,    protect ;    V.    iii. 

254- 
Warn,  summon  ;  I.  iii.  39. 
Watch,  watch-light ;  V.  iii.  63. 


From  Aggas's  Map  of  London,  pre« 
served  in  OuildhaU. 


169 


Glossary 


KING  RICHARD  III 


Watery;  "  w.  moon,"  i.e.  ruler 

of  the  tides ;  II.  ii.  69. 
Way,  best  course ;  I.  i.  78. 
Weigh,  prize,  regard;  III.  i.  121. 
Welkin,  sky;  V.  iii.  341. 
Wheel' d,     turned      (Folios, 

"  whirl' d  ")  ;    IV.  iv.  105. 
Whether   (monosyllabic ;   Folio 

I,  "  where  ")  ;   III.  vii.  229. 
While,    "  the    w.,"    the    present 

time;  II.  iii.  8. 
Whit,  jot;  III.  iv.82. 
White-Friars,   a    convent   near 

Fleet  Street;  I.  ii.  227. 


White-liver  d,  cowardly  (the 
liver  was  regarded  as  the  seat 
of  courage)  ;  IV.  iv.  465. 

Windows,  eyelids;  V.  iii.  116. 

With,  by;  IV.  iii.  47. 

Withal,  with  ;   III.  vii.  57. 

Witty,  sharp-witted,  cunning ; 
IV.  ii.  42. 

Wot,  knows  ;  II.  iii.  18. 

Wretched,  hateful,  abominable 
(Collier,  "reckless")  ;  V.  ii. 

7- 
Wrongs,   wrong-doings ;    V.    i. 
19. 


I^ 


Interior  of  the  Bowyer's  Tower,  the  traditional  place  of  Clarence's  drowning. 
From  an  engraving  by  Fairholt. 


Critical  Notes. 


BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 


I.  i.  2.  '  Sun  of  York ' ;  probably  an  allusion  to  the  device  of  a 
sun,  the  cognizance  of  Edward  IV.  Quartos,  '  sonne ' ;  Folios, 
'Son']  Rowe,  'sun!  (Cp.  illus- 
tration.) 

I.  i.  15.  '  to  court  an  amorous 
looking-glass ' ;  Vaughan  thought 
the  line  might  be  improved  by  a 
slight  emendation  : — '  an  amorous 
looking  lass'i  !), 

>o     Quartos; 


I.  i.  26.  '  spy  ' ;     so 
Folios,  '  seeJ 

I.  i,  61.  '  have ' ;  so 
and  Folios  4;  Folios 
*hath: 


^       ,       From  badges  of  the  House  of  York, 

Quartos      worn  by  (i)  Richard  II.,  (2)  Edward 

12^        IV.,(3)RichardIII.    Figs  (2)  and  (3) 

'       '  show  the  conjunction  of  a  half-faced 

sun  and  a  white  rose. 


171 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I.  i.  65.  'That  tempers  him  to  this  extremity' ;  so  Quarto  i; 
Quartos  2-8  read,  '  That  tejiipts  him/  etc.  (Quarto  3.  'temps')  ; 
Folios  read.  'That  tempts  him  to  this  harsh  extremity'  \  Anon, 
conj.  '  TJiat  tempts  him  now  to  this  extremity.' 

I.  i.  75.  '  ivas  to  her  for  his';  so  Quartos;  Folio  i,  'was,  for 
her';  Folios  2,  3,  'was,  for  his.' 

I.  i.  132.  'eagle'',  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'Eagles.' 

I.  i.  133.  'prey'',  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'play.' 

T.  i.  138.  '  hy  Saint  Paid';  the  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios,  'by 
S.  lohn,'  a  favourite  oath  of  Richard's. 

I.  ii.  8.  '  he  it,'  monosyllabic. 

I.  ii.  14.  'Cursed  he  the  hand  that  made  these  fatal  holes'; 
Quartos,  'Curst';  Folios,  '  O  Curst';  Quartos  i,  2,  'these  fatal'; 
Quartos  3-8,  'the  fatalV;  Folios,  'these.' 

I.  ii.  16,  25.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  ii.  19.  'to  adders,  spiders';  the  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios 
read,  '  to  wolves,  to  spiders.' 

I.  ii.  60,61.  'Thy  deed  .  .  .  Provokes' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios 
I,  2,  3,  'Deeds  .  .  .  Prouokes ' ;  Folio  4,  'deed  .  .  .  Pro- 
voke.' 

I.  ii.  76.  'evils';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'crimes.' 

I.  ii.  89.  '  Why,  then  they  are  not  dead ' ;  the  reading  of  Quar- 
tos ;  Folios  read,  '  Then  say  they  were  not  slaine.' 

I.  ii.  127.  'These  eyes  could  never  endure  sweet  heauty's 
wreck';  Quartos,  'never';  Folios  read,  'not';  Quartos,  'sweet'; 
Folios  I,  2,'  yt' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  that' ;  '  zvreck'  Theobald's  emenda- 
tion of  '  wreck '  of  Quartos  and  Folios. 

I.  ii.  135.  'you';  Folios,  'thee.' 

I.  ii.  147.  '  Never  hung  poison  on  a  fouler  toad ' ;  alluding  to 
the  old  belief  that  toads  were  venomous. 

I.  ii.  156,  167.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  ii.  180.  '  for  I  did  kill  King  Henry ' ;  Quartos  read,  '  twas  I 
tJiat  kild  your  husband.' 

I.  ii.  182.  "tzvas  I  that  stabb'd  young  Edward';  Quartos  read, 
'  'twas  I  that  kild  King  Henry.' 

I.  ii.  186.  '  the ' ;  Folios.  '  thy/ 

I.  ii.  203.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  ii.  207.  'devoted  suppliant';  so  Quarto  i;  Folios  read,  'de- 
noted seruant' ;  the  rest,  '  suppliant/ 

I.  ii.  211.  'would/  the  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios,  'may'; 
*  thee/  so  Quartos ;  Folios,  '  you/ 

172 


I. 

I. 
I. 

ii.  236. 

iii.  5.  ' 
iii.  7-  ' 

I. 

iii.  17. 

KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

I.  ii.  212.  'more';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  *  most.' 

I.  ii.  226.  'Sirs,  take  up  the  corse';  omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  ii.  228,229: — 

'  Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'df 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  wonT 
cp.  '  She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  woo'd ; 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  won.' 

Titus  And.,  II.  i.  82,  83. 

"  She's  beautiful,  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd; 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  to  be  won." 

I  Henry  VI.,  V.  iii.  77,  /S. 

'nothing';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'no  Friends.' 
words';  so  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'eyes.' 
harm' ;  Folios  i,  2,  3,  '  harmes.' 

'Here  come  the  lords';  so  Quartos  i,  2;  Quartos  3-8, 
'Here  comes  the  Lords';  Folios,  'Here  comes  the  Lord';  Theo- 
bald altered  '  Derby '  to  '  Stanley'  as  Thomas,  Lord  Stanley,  was 
not  created  Earl  of  Derby  till  after  the  accession  of  Henry  VII. 

I.  iii.  36.  'Madam,  we  did';  Folios  i,  2,  3,  '/  {i.e.  Aye) 
Madam ' ;  Quartos,  '  Madame  we  did.' 

I.  iii.  43.  'who  are  they  that  complain';  the  reading  of  Quar- 
tos; Folios  read,  'who  is  it  that  complaines.' 

I.  iii.  58.  'person';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'Grace.' 

I.  iii.  67.  'kindred';  so  Quartos  i,  6,  7,  8;  Quartos  2,  3.  4,  5 
read,  '  kinred ' ;  Folios,  '  children.' 

I.  iii.  68,69.  'Makes  him  to  send;  that  thereby  he  may  gather 
The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  to  remove  it,'  the  readmg  of 
Quartos  1-6.  (Quarto  6,  'grounds')  ;  Folios  read,  'Makes  him 
to  send,  that  he  may  learn  the  ground' 1  Pope,  'Makes  him  to 
send  that  he  may  learn  the  ground  Of  your  ill-will,  and  thereby 
to  remove  it';  Capell,  'Hath  sent  for  you;  that  thereby  he  may 
gather  The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  so  remove  it,'  etc. 

I.  iii.  77.  '  we' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios,  '  L' 

I.  iii.  80.  'whilst  many  fair  promotions' ;  the  reading  of  Quar- 
tos; Folios,  'while  great  promotions' ;  (evidently  to  be  read  as  a 
quadrisyllable). 

I.  iii.  90.  '  cause ' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios,  '  meane.' 

I.  iii.  106.  '  With  those  gross  taunts  I  often  have  endured' ;  so 
Quartos;  Folios  read,  '  Of  those  .    .    .   that  oft  I  have  e.'. 

I.  iii.  109.  'thus  taunted,  scorn'd,  and  baited  at';  the  reading  of 
Quartos;  Folios  read,  'so  baited,  sccrr.'d,  and  stormed  at.' 

1/3 


Notes  •  ^    THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I.  iii.  114.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  iii.  116.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iii,  130.  'Margaret's  battle  at  St.  Alban's/  i.e.  the  second  bat- 
tle of  St.  Albans,  Feb.  17,  1461. 

I.  iii.  161.  'I  being  queen';  so  the  Quartos;  Folios  read,  '/  am 
queen.' 

I.  iii.  167-169.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iii.  219.  '  them'  i.e.  heaven,  used  in  plural  sense. 

I.  iiii.  287.  'I'll  not  believe';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '/  will  not 
think  e.' 

I.  iii,  321.  'And  for  your  grace;  and  you,  my  noble  lords'; 
Folios,  'And  for  your  Grace,  and  yours  my  gracious  Lord.' 

I.  iii.  2)2)7-  'old  odd  ends  stolen  out';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  odde 
old  ends  stolen  forth' 

I.  iii.  354.  '  Your  eyes  drop  millstones,  when  fools'  eyes  drop 
tears'  a  proverbial  expression  ;  '  drop  tears ' ;  the  reading  of  Quar- 
tos ;  Folios,  '  fall  Teares.' 

I.  iv.  3.  'So  full  of  ugly  sights,  of  ghastly  dreams';  so  Quar- 
tos; F'olios,  'So  full  of  fearefull  Dreanies,  of  ugly  sights.' 

I.  iv.  9,10.  '  Methoughts  that  I  had  broken  from  the  Tozver, 
And  was  embark'd  to  cross  to  Burgundy' ;  so  Folios;  Quartos 
read,  'Me  thoughts  I  was  imbarkt  for  Burgundy.' 

I.  iv.  25.  'ten  thousand' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'a  thousand.' 

I.  iv.  28.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iv.  36,37.  'and  often  .    .    .  ghost';  omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iv.  38.  '  kept  in ' ;  so  Quartos  ;  Folios,  '  Stop'd.' 

I.  iv.  45.  'who';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '/';  'Hood,'  river  {'mel- 
ancholy Hood,'  i.e.  the  river  Styx). 

I.  iv.  46.  'grim  ferryman' ;  i.e.  Charon;  so  Quartos;  Folios, 
'  sowre  f! 

I.  iv.  57.  'to  your  torments';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'unto  Tor- 
ment.' 

I.  iv.  59.  '  environ' d  me  about';  so  Quartos;  Folios  omit 
'about.' 

I.  iv.  65.  'I  promise  you,  I  am  afraid  to  hear  you  tell  it';  so 
the  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'I  am  affraid  (me  thinkes)  to  hear  you 
tell  it.' 

I.  iv.  66.  '  O  Brakenbury ' ;  Quartos  read,  '  O  Brokenbury ' ; 
Folios,  'Ah  Keeper,  Keeper! ' ;  '  those,'  so  Quartos  ;  Folios,  '  these.' 

I.  iv.  69-72.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iv.  y2.  '  My  guiltless  wife ' ;  Clarence's  wife  died  before  this 
date. 

174  ^_ 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

I.  iv.  yz-  'I  P^o,y  thee,  gentle  Keeper,  stay  by  me';  the  reading 
of  Quartos ;  Folios  read,  '  Keeper,  I  prythce  sit  by  me  a-while.' 

I.  iv.  85.  '  In  God's  name  what  are  you,  and  how  came  you 
hither? ';  tEe  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios,  'What  would'st  thou, 
Fellow?    And  how  camm'st  thou  hither? ' 

I.  iv.  95.  'Here  are  the  keys,  there  sits  the  duke  asleep']  so 
Quartos ;  Folios  read,  '  There  lies  the  Duke  asleepe,  and  there  the 
Keyes.' 

I.  iv.  104.  ' ////  the  judgement-day' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  iintill 
the  great  judgement-day.' 

I.  iv.  113-114.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  iv.  118.  'my  holy  humour';  so  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'this 
passionate  humor  of  mine.' 

I.  iv.  133.  '  it  .    .    .   thing ' ;  omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  iv.  153.  '  sJiall  zve  to  this  gear?  '  so  Quartos ;  Folios  read, 
'shall  we  fall  to  worke.' 

I.  iv.  155.  'we  will  chop  him  in';  so  Quartos;  Folios  read, 
'  throw  him  into.' 

I.  iv.  169.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iv.  180.  '  call'd  forth  from  out' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  drazvnc 
forth  among/ 

I,  iv.  188.  'to  have  redemption' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'for  any 
goodness.' 

I.  iv.  189.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  iv.  216.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  iv.  249.  'this  world's';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  tJiis  earth's.' 

I.  iv.  258-267.  'Relent!  'tis'  etc.;  Folios.  'Relent?  no:  'Tis' 
etc, ;  the  text  is  due  to  a  blending  of  the  readings  of  Quartos  and 
Folios,  first  suggested  by  Tyrwhitt   (vide  Note  vii.,  Camb.  ed.). 

I.  iv.  273,  '  like  Pilate ' ;  cp.  Matthew  xxvii.  24. 

I.  iv.  274.  'grievous  guilty  murder  done';  so  Quartos;  Folios. 
'grievous  murther.' 

I.  iv.  282.  '  Until  the  duke  take' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  Till  that 
the  Duke  give: 

II.  i.  5.  *'  now  in  peace';  so  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'more  to 
peace.' 

II.  i.  7.  ' Rivers  and  Hastings' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'Dor- 
set and  Rivers.' 

II.  i.  2>3-  '  On  you  or  yours ' ;  the  reading  of  Quartos ;  Folios 
read,  '  Vpon  your  Grace.' 

II.  i.  40.  '  aeal';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'lone.' 

II.  i.  44.  'perfect';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'blessed.' 

175 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

II.  i.  45.  'And,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  noble  duke';  so 
Quartos;  Folios  read,  'And  in  good  time,  Heere  comes  Sir  Rich- 
ard Ratcliffe,  and  the  Duke.' 

11.  i.  56.  '  unwittingly ' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios  read,  '  unwillingly.' 

II.  i.  66.  '  Of  you.  Lord  Rivers,  and,  Lord  Grey,  of  you ' ;  so 
Quartos  1-4 ;  Folios  read,  '  Of  you  and  you,  Lord  Rivers  and  of 
Dorset.' 

II.  i.  67.  '  have  frown' d  on  me ' ;  the  reading  of  Quartos  ;  Folios 
read,  '  have  frown'd  on  me,  Of  you  Lord  Wooduill,  and  Lord 
Scales  of  you.' 

II.  i.  69-72.  Quoted  by  Milton  in  Iconoclastes  by  way  of  illus- 
trating his  statement  that  "  the  poets,  and  some  English,  have  been 
in  this  point  so  mindful  of  decorum,  as  to  put  never  nine  pious 
w^ords  in  the  mouth  of  any  person,  than  of  a  tyrant." 

II,  i.  98.  'Then  speak  at  once  what  is  it  thou  demand' st ' ; 
'  speak,'  the  reading  of  Quartos ;  Folios,  '  say  ' ;  '  demandest,'  the 
reading  of  Quartos;  Folios,  'requests.' 

II.  i.  103.  'that  tongue'',  so  Folios;  Quartos  read,  'the  same.' 

II.    i.  104.  'slew';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  kill'd.' 

II.  i.  105.  'cruel';  Quartos;  Folios,  'bitter.' 

II.  i.  116.  'his  own  garments' ;  Quartos  6,  7.  8,  'his  owne 
armes';  Folios,  'his  Garments' ;  'gave,'  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'did 
give.' 

II.  ii.  II.  'sorrow  to  wail';  so  Folios;  Quartos  read,  'labour 
to  weepe  for.' 

II.  i.  15.  'daily';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'earnest';  Pope,  'daily 
earnest,'  omittting  '  all  to  that  effect.' 

II.  ii.  16.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

II.  ii.  46.  '  perpetual  rest ' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios  read,  '  nere- 
changing  night';  Collier  MS.,  '  nere-changing  light.' 

-85.  '  So  do  I ;   I  for  an  Edward  weep  ' ;   omitted  in 

9-100,  123-140,  omitted  in  Quartos. 
'  Madam  ' ;  so  Quartos  ;  Folios,  '  Sister.' 
'  zveighty' ;  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios  omit  it. 
Seldom  comes  the  better';  a  proverbial  expression; 
found  in  Ray's  Proverbs. 

II.  iii.  II.  'Woe  to  that  land  that's  govern'd  by  a  child';  cp. 
Ecclesiastes  x.  16.    - 

II.  iii.  28.  'sons  and  brothers  haught';  so  Folios;  Quartos, 
'  kindred  hauty  ' ;  Capell  conj.,  '  kindred  hauty  are.' 

II.  iv.  20.  'if  this  rule  were  true';  so  the  Cambridge  Editors; 

176 


II.  ii. 

84-^ 

Folios. 

II.  ii. 

11.  ^ 

II.  ii. 

lOI. 

II.  ii. 

144. 

II.  iii 

•  4- 

KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

Quartos  1,2,'  //  this  were  a  true  rule ' ;  Quartos  3-8,  *  if  this  were 
a  rule ' ;  Folios,  '  if  his  rule  were  true.' 

II.  iv.  62, 63.  '  blood  against  blood,  Self'  etc. ;  so  Quartos ; 
Folios,  '  Brother  to  Brother;  Blood  to  blood,  selfe,'  etc. 

II.  iv.  67.  'Madam,  farewell';  omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  i.  82.  'formal  vice,  Iniquity';  Hanmer  reads,  'formal  wise 
antiquary';  Warburton,  'formal-wise  antiquity';  'Iniquity'  was 
no  uncommon  name  of  the  formal  {i.e.  conventional)  comic  char- 
acter, the  Vice,  of  the  Morality  plays  (c/>.  e.g.  '  The  Nice  Wan- 
ton'). 

III.  i.  110,111;  observe  this  instance  of  dramatic  irony. 

III.  i.  172,  173,  omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  i.  176.  'icy-cold' ;  Ingleby's  conj.;  Quartos  and  Folios 
read,  '  icie,  cold.' 

III.  i.  193.  'Chop  off  his  head,  man;  somcwJiat  zve  zvill  do';  so 
Quartos;  Folios  read,  'Chop  off  his  Head:  something  wee  will 
determine.' 

III.  ii.  II.  'ra::ed';  Quartos  1-4,  '  raste ' ;  Quarto  5,  'caste'; 
Folios  I,  2,  '  rased  off  ' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  raised  off.'  Quoted  in  Nares 
'  rashcd.'  To  rase  or  rash  seems  to  have  been  an  old  hunting 
term  used  specially  for  the  violence  of  the  boar. 

III.  ii.  55.  'I  will  not  do  it,  to  the  death' ;  i.e.  though  death  be 
the  consequence. 

III.  ii.  108.  '  fcllozv ' ;   Quartos  read,  '  Hastings.' 

III.  iii.  7,  8.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  iii.  15.  After  this  line  Folios  insert : — '  When  she  exclaim'd 
on  Hastings,  you,  and  I';  omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  iii.  23.  'Make  haste;  the  hour  of  death  is  expiate';  so 
Folio  I ;  Folios  2-4,  'is  now  expired'  (cp.  supra  1.  8)  :  expiate  = 
ended,  terminated;  Quartos  read,  'Come,  come,  dispatch;  the 
limit  of  your  Hues  is  out';  Steevens,  '  ex  pirate.' 

III.  iv.  I.  'My  lords,  at  once';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  Nozv, 
Noble  Peers.' 

III.  iv.  10.  *"  Who,  I,  my  lord,'  etc.,  so  Quartos ;  the  Folio : — 
'  We  know  each  other's  Face;  for  our  Hearts 
He  knozves  no  more  of  mine,  then  I  of  yours, 
Or  I  of  his,  my  Lord,  then  you  of  mine.' 

III.  iv.  77.  '  Telle  St  thou  me  of  "ifs"'  so  Quartos;  Folios, 
'  Talk'st  thou  to  me  of  "  ifs." ' 

III.  iv.  84.  'raze  his  helm';  Quartos  read,  'race  his  helme'; 
Folios  1,2,*^  rowse  our  Helmes ' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  rowze  our  Helmes  ' ; 
Rowe,  'rase  our  helms';  cp.  supra  III.  ii.  11. 

177 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

III.  iv.  85.  'But  I  disdain' d,  and  did  scorn  to  fly';  so  Quar- 
tos; Folios,  'And  I  did  scorn  it,  and  disdaine  to  Hyc.' 

III.  iv.  98.  '  grace   of  mortal ' ;    so    Folios ;    Quartos,   '  state   of 
worldly.' 

104-107.  Omitted  in   Quartos. 
5.  '  Tut,  I  can  ' ;  so  Folios ;  Quartos,  '  Tut  feare  not  me. 


III. 

iv 

III. 

V. 

can: 

III. 

V. 

III. 

V. 

7.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

10-21.  The  first  Quarto  differs  in  many  points  from  this, 
the  reading  of  the  Folios,  especially  in  making  Catesby  enter  with 
Hastings'  head,  though  previously  Gloster  has  ordered  him  '  to 
overlook  the  walls.'  A  similar  discrepancv  occurs  in  Scene  4, 
11.  80.  81. 

III.  V.  52.  Gloucester's  speech  given  to  '  Buckingham  '  in  Folios. 

III.  V.  70,  71.  '  Yet  zvitness  .  .  .  farewell';  so  Folios;  Quartos 
read,  '  Vet  witnesse  what  we  did  intend,  and  so  my  Lord  adue.' 

III.  V.  97.  'and  .    .    .   adieu';  103-105.     Omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  V.  101-102.  ' I  go  .  .  .  affords';  so  Folios;  Quartos  read 
'About  three  or  four  a  clocke  looke  to  heare  What  news  Guildhall 
aifordeth,  and  so  my  Lord  farewell.' 

III.  vi.  12.  'blind';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'bold.' 

III.  vii.  24.  '  they  spake  not  a  word,'  omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  vii.  25.  '  breathing  stones'  i.e.  they  were  able  to  breathe, 
but  without  the  power  of  speech ;  later  Quartos,  '  breathlesse  s. ' 

III.  vii.  11.  98,  99,  120,  127,  144-153,  202,  omitted  in  Quartos. 

III.  vii.  220.  Omitted  in  Folios,  where  the  previous  line  reads, 
'  Come,  citiizens,  we  will  entreat  no  more.' 

III.  vii.  240.  'Richard,  England's  royal  king';  so  Quartos; 
Folios,  '  King  Richard,  England's  zvorthie  king.' 

IV.  i.  7.  'As  much  to  you,  good  sister!  Whither  azvayf  the 
reading  of  Folios ;  Quartos,  which  omit  11.  2-6,  read,  '  Sister,  well 
met,  whether  awaie  so  fast?' 

IV.  i.  14.  'How  doth  the  prince,  and  my  young  son  of  York?' 
so  Folios;  Quartos  read,  '  Hozu  fares  the  Prince?' 

IV.  i.  15.  'Right  well,  dear  Madam.  By  your  patience';  the 
reading  of  Folios ;  Quartos  read,  '  Well,  Madam,  and  in  health,  but 
by  your  leave.' 

IV.  i.  18.  'why  zi'ho's  that?'  the  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios, 
'who  's  that?' 

IV.  i.  25.  '  Then  bring  me  to  their  sights' ',  so  Folios;  Quartos 
read,  '  Then  feare  not  thou.' 

178 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

IV.  i.  51.  'To  meet  you  on  the  way,  and  welcome  you'-,  sd 
Quartos;  Folios  read,  'In  your  behalf e,  to  meet  you  on  the  way.' 
IV.  i.  61.  'red-hot  steel';  Steevens  says,  'She  seems  to  allude 
to  the  ancient  mode  of  punishing  a  regicide,  or  any  other  egregious 
criminal,  viz.,  by  placing  a  crown  of  iron,  heated  red-hot,  upon  his 
head.' 

IV.  i.  66.  'Whyf;  so  Folios;  omitted  in  Quartos. 
IV.  i.  76-77.  'As  miserable  by  the  death  of  thee  As  thou  hast 
made  me  by  my  dear  lord's  death';   so   Quartos;    Folios  read, 
'  More  miserable  by  the  life  of  thee.  Then '  etc. ;  cp.  I.  ii.  27. 

IV.  i.  96.  'Eighty  odd  years';  the  Duchess  was  actually  only 
sixty-eight  at  this  time. 

IV.  i.  Q8-104.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

IV.  ii.  16.  'That  Edward  still  should  live  true  noble  prince') 
so  Quartos  and  Folios  ;  Theobald.  '  Tliat  Edward  still  should  live. 
True  noble  Prince.' 

IV.  ii.  46-53.  In  the  lines  the  Cambridge  text  follows  substan- 
tiall}'-  the  reading  of  the  Quartos  in  preference  to  the  Folios,  where 
the  passage  is  carelessly  printed. 

IV.  ii.  56.  '  The  boy  is  foolisli ' ;  i.e.  Edward  Plantagenet,  who 
had  been  kept  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  almost  from  his  tenderest 
years. 

R^  ii.  102-119.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

IV.  iii.  5.  'this  ruthless  piece  of  butchery' ;  so  Quartos  i,  2; 
Quarto  3,  '  thir  ruthfull  .  .  .  ,'  etc.;  Quartos  4-8,  'this  ruthfull 
.    .    .   ,'  etc.;  Folios,  *"  This  peece  of  ruthfull  Butchery.' 

IV.  iii.  II.  'innocent  alabaster';  so  Quarto  8;  Quartos  1-7,  'in- 
nocent alablaster' ;  Folios  i,  2,  3  read,  '  Alablaster  innocent'; 
Folio  4,  'Alabaster  innocent.' 

IV.  ni.  40.  '  the  Breton  Richmond';  "after  the  battle  of 
Tewkesbury  he  had  taken  refuge  in  the  court  of  Francis  II.,  Duke 
of  Bretagne  "  (Malone). 

IV.  iv.  17-19,  placed  after  line  34  in  Folios. 
IV.  iv.  20,  21,  28.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

IV.  iv.  41.  'Harry';  Quartos,  'Richard';  Folios,  'Husband.'.. 
IV.  iv.  52-53.    Omitted  in  Quartos ;  transposed  in  Folios. 
IV.  iv.  72.  'their,'  i.e.,  hell's;  cp.  the  use  of  'heaven,'  I.  iii.  219. 
IV.  iv.  88-90.  The  reading  of  the  Quartos  is  followed  in  these 
lines  in  preference  to  that  of  the  Folios : — 

'A  dream e  of  what  thou  wast,  a  garish  Flagg, 
To  be  the  aymne  of  every  dangerous  shot; 
A  sign  of  dignity,  a  Breath,  a  Bubble,' 

179 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

IV.  iv.  102-104  transposed;  line  103  omitted  in  Quartos.  Folios 
'  she '  for  '  one.' 

IV.  iv.  175.  'Humphrey  Hour';  perhaps  a  mere  personifica- 
tion, as  it  were,  of  some  particular  Hour,  formed  on  the  analogy 
of  such  phrases  as  '  Tom  Trott,'  etc.  According  to  some,  there  is 
an  allusion  to  the  phrase  '  to  dine  with  Duke  Humphrey.' 

IV.  iv.  179-182.  '/  prithee  .  .  .  So.';  so  Folios;  Quartos 
read,  *Du.  O  hear  me  speake,  for  I  shall  never  see  thee  more. 
King.    Come,  come,  you  are  too  hitter." 

IV.  iv.  221-234.   Omitted  in  Quartos. 

IV.  iv.  235-236.  'my  enterprise.  And  dangerous  success  of 
bloody  zvars';  so  Folios;  Quartos,  read,  'my  dangerous  attempt 
of  hostile  armes.' 

IV.  iv.  275,  276.  '  steep' d  in  Rutland's  blood, — A  handkerchief ' ; 
so  Folios ;  Quartos,  read,  '  a  handkercher  steept  in  Rutlands 
bloud.' 

•IV.  iv.  276-2y7,  28S-342.    Omitted  in  Quartos. 

IV.  iv.  324.  '  Of  ten  times ' ;  Theobald's  correction  of  Folios, 
'Oftentimes.' 

IV.  iv.  z^T.  'What  canst  thou  swear  by  now?'  omitted  in 
Quartos. 

IV.  iv.  511-516.  So  the  Folios;  the  Quartos  differ  materially 
in  the  phraseology  of  the  lines. 

V.  ii.  17.  'Every  man's  conscience  is  a  thousand  swords'; 
Folios,  'men'  for  'swords';  the  words  paraphrase  '  Conscientia 
nulle  testes.' 

V.  iii.  2.  'My  Lord  of  Surrey,  why  look  you  so  sad?';  so  the 
Folios ;  Quarto  i  reads,  '  IVhie,  how  now  Catesbie,  whie  lookst 
thou  so  bad?'  the  other  Quartos,  '  Whie     .     .     .     so  sad?' 

V.  iii.  22.  '  Sir  William  Brandon,  you  shall  bear  my  standard ' ; 
so  Folios ;  Quartos  read,  '  Where  is  Sir  William  Brandon,  he  shall 
beare  my  standerd.' 

V.  iii.  23-26.  In  Quartos  these  lines  are  inserted  between  11.  43 
and  44.  and  11.  27,  28,  43  are  omitted. 

V.  iii.  40.  'Good  Captain  Blunt,  bear  my  good-night  to  him': 
so  Quartos;  Folios,  '  Siveet  Blunt,  make  some  good  meanes  to 
speak  with  him.' 

V.  iii.  95.  'tender  George';  George  Stanley  was  at  this  time  al- 
ready married,  tho'  Shakespeare,  following  Hall  and  Holinshed, 
makes  him  a  child. 

V.  iii.  125.  'By  thee  was  punched  full  of  deadly  holes';  this 
has  been  described  as  one  of  the  worst  lines  in  all  Shakespeare, 

180 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

but  this  is  due  to  the  fact  that  critics  have  confused  (i.)  'punch/ 
the  technical  word  for  making  use  of  the  puncheon,  a  shoe- 
maker's tool  for  making  holes  (Fr.  poinson,  a  bodkin,  L. 
punctionr/n),  with  (ii.)  punch,  to  beat,  which  is  a  distinct  word, 
and  is  merely  an  abbreviation  of  punish. 

V.  iii.  143.  'Let  fall  thy  lance:  despair,  and  die!';  Capell  reads, 
'  hurtless  lance' ;  Collier  MS..  '  pointless  lance';  but  no  change  is 
necessary ;  the  line  is  probably  intentionally  abrupt,  cp.  148. 

V.  iii.  152.  'lead' ;  so  Quarto  i ;  all  others  eds.,  '  laid.' 

V.  iii.  162-163.  These  lines  are  Lettsom's  conjecture,  the  true 
lines  being  lost. 

V.  iii.  173.  ■'  /  died  for  hope  ' ;  i.e.,  '  for  want  of  hope,'  cp.  '  dead 
for  hope'  (Greene's  James  IV.,  V .,  VI.)  =  'dead  to  hope.'  Va- 
rious unnecessary  emendations  have  been  proposed  {v.  Glossary). 

V.  iii.  180.  '  the  lights  burn  blue,'  alluding  to  the  old  super- 
stitious belief  that  when  a  spirit  was  present  the  lights  burnt  blue. 

V.  iii.  204-206.  ' Methought  .  .  .  Richard';  Johnson  pro- 
posed to  place  these  lines  after  line  192. 

V.  iii.  212-214.  '  King  Rich.  O  Ratclitf  .  .  .  my  lord,' 
omitted  in  Folios. 

V.  iii.  221.  'eaves-dropper,'  so  Folio  4;  Quarto  i,  'ease 
dropper';  Quarto  2,  '  ewse  dropper';  Folios  i,  2,  3,  'Ease- 
dropper.' 

V.  iii.  317.  'Bretons' ;  Capell's  emendation;  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  5, 
'  Brittains ' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  Britains ' ;  Pope,  '  Britons! 

V.  iii.  322.  'restrain  ' ;  so  Quartos  and  Folios.  Warburton  pro- 
posed '  distrain  '  and  this  reading  has  been  adopted  by  several 
modern  editors. 

V.  iii.  324.  'Mothers  cost,'  should  be  '  brother's  cost ' ;  the  error 
— a  mere  printer's  error — was  due  to  the  2d  edition  of  Holinshed; 
cp.  Hall,  'brought  up  by  my  brother's  {i.e.,  Richard's  brother-in- 
law,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy)  meanes  and  mine.' 

V.  iii.  345.  '  the  enemy  is  past  the  marsh ' ;  "  There  was  a  large 
marsh  in  Bosworth  plaine  between  the  two  armies,  which  Richard 
passed,  and  arranged  his  forces  so  that  it  protected  his  right  wing. 
He  thus  also  compelled  the  enemy  to  fight  with  the  sun  in  their 
faces,  a  great  disadvantage  when  the  bows  and  arrows  were  in 
use"  (Malone). 

V.  v.  9.  'But  tell  me,  is  young  George  Stanley  living f;  so 
Folios  and  Quartos.  Pope,  'tell  me  iirst';  Keightley,  'tell  me, 
pray,'  etc.  There  is  no  need  to  emend;  '  George'  is  evidently  dis- 
syllabic. 

i8i 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Explanatory  Notes. 


The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

13.  To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute : — A  passage  in  Lyly's 
Alexander  and  Campaspe,  1584,  runs  thus:  "  Is  the  warlike  sound 
of  drum  and  trump  turned  to  the  soft  noise  of  lyre  and  lute?  the 
neighing  of  barbed  steeds,  whose  loudness  filled  the  air  with  terror, 
and  whose  breaths  dimmed  the  sun  with  smoke,  converted  to  deli- 
cate tunes  and  amorous  glances?  " 

56,57.  a  zuizard  told  him,  etc.: — This  is  founded  on  the  follow- 
ing passage  in  Holinshed :  "  Some  have  reported,  that  the  cause 
of  this  nobleman's  death  rose  of  a  foolish  prophesie,  which  was, 
that  after  K.  Edward  one  should  reigne,  whose  first  letter  of  his 
name  should  be  a  G.  Wherewith  the  king  and  queene  were  sore 
troubled,  and  began  to  conceive  a  greevous  grudge  against  this 
duke,  and  could  not  be  in  quiet  till  they  had  brought  him  to  his 
end.  And  as  the  divell  is  woont  to  incumber  the  minds  of  men 
which  delite  in  such  divelish  fantasies,  they  said  afterward,  that 
that  prophesie  lost  none  of  his  effect,  when,  after  king  Edward, 
Gloucester  usurped  his  kingdome." 

158.  secret  close  intent: — Probably  to  get  into  his  hands  the  son 
and  daughter  of  Clarence,  who  had  been  left  in  the  care  of  Lady 
Anne,  their  aunt,  and  had  succeeded  to  the  larger  portion  of  the 
vast  estates  of  their  grandfather,  the  great  Earl  of  Warwick. 

182 


KING  RICHARD  III.  .       Notes 

Scene  II. 

S3.  Stay,  you  that  bear  the  corse : — Brandes  says :  "  It  is  while 
Anne  is  accompanying  the  bier  of  the  murdered  Henry  VI.  that 
the  murderer  confronts  her,  stops  the  funeral  procession  with 
drawn  sword,  calmly  endures  all  the  outbursts  of  hatred,  loathing, 
and  contempt  with  which  Anne  overwhelms  him,  and,  having 
shaken  off  her  invectives  like  water  from  a  duck's  back,  advances 
his  suit,  plays  his  comedy  of  love,  and  there  and  then  so  turns  the 
current  of  her  will  that  she  allows  him  to  hope,  and  even  accepts 
his  ring.  The  scene  is  historically  impossible,  since  Queen  Mar- 
garet took  Anne  with  her  in  her  flight  after  the  battle  of  Tewks- 
bury,  and  Clarence  kept  her  in  concealment  until  two  years  after 
the  death  of  Henry  Yh,  when  Richard  discovered  her  in  London. 
It  has,  moreover,  something  astonishing,  or  rather  bewildering, 
about  it  at  the  first  reading,  appearing  as  though  written  for  a 
wager,  or  to  outdo  some  predecessor.  Nevertheless  it  is  by  no 
means  unnatural.  What  may  with  justice  be  objected  to  it  is  that 
it  is  unprepared.  The  mistake  is,  that  we  are  first  introduced  to 
Anne  in  the  scene  itself,  and  consequently  form  no  judgement 
as  to  whether  her  action  does  or  does  not  accord  with  her  char- 
acter. The  art  of  dramatic  writing  consists  almost  entirely  in 
preparing  for  what  is  to  come,  and  then,  in  spite  of,  nay,  in  virtue 
of  the  preparation,  taking  the  audience  by  surprise.  Surprise  with- 
out preparation  loses  half  its  effect.  But  this  is  only  a  technical 
flaw  which  so  great  a  master  would  in  riper  years  have  remedied 
with  ease.  The  essential  feature  of  the  scene  is  its  tremendous 
daring  and  strength,  or,  psychologically  speaking,  the  depth  of 
early-developed  contempt  for  womankind  into  which  it  affords  us 
a  glimpse." 

55,  56.  dead  Henry's  wounds,  etc. : — This  is  founded  on  Hol- 
inshed's  account  of  Henry's  funeral :  "  The  dead  corps  was  con- 
veied  from  the  Tower  to  the  church  of  saint  Paule,  and  there  laid 
on  a  beire  or  coffen  bare- faced :  the  same  in  presence  of  the  be- 
holders did  bleed.  From  thense  he  was  caried  to  the  Blackfriers, 
and  bled  there  likewise."  It  used  to  be  thought  that  the  body  of  a 
murdered  person  would  bleed  afresh,  if  touched  or  approached  by 
the  murderer.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby  had  so  much  faith  in  this,  that 
he  undertook  to  account  for  it.  The  matter  is  thus  referred  to  by 
Drayton ; — 

183 


Notes        .  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

''If  the  vile  actors  of  the  heinous  deed 
Near  the  dead  body  happily  be  brought, 
Oft 't  hath  been  prov'd  the  breathless  corpse  will  bleed." 

The  lovers  of  romance  will  not  be  apt  to  forget  the  means  used 
for  detecting  the  murderer  of  Oliver  Proudfute,  in  Scott's  Fair 
Maid  of  Perth. 

242.  at  Teivksbury : — This  fixes  the  time  of  the  scene  to  August, 
1471.  King  Edward,  however,  is  introduced  in  the  second  Act 
dying.  That  king  died  in  April,  1483 ;  consequently  there  is  an 
interval  between  this  and  the  next  Act  of  almost  twelve  years. 
Clarence,  who  is  represented  in  the  preceding  Scene  as  committed 
to  the  Tower  before  the  burial  of  King  Henry  VI.,  was  in  fact  not 
confined  till  February,  1478,  nearly  seven  years  afterwards. 

Scene  III.  • 

16.  [Enter  Buckingham.]  Henry  Stafford,  this  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, was  descended,  on  his  father's  side,  from  Thomas  of 
Woodstock,  the  fifth  son  of  Edward  HI.  His  mother  was  Mar- 
(Xaret,  daughter  to  Edmund  Beaufort,  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  who 
fell  in  the  first  battle  of  St.  Albans.  So  that  on  his  mother's  side 
Buckingham  was  descended  from  John  of  Ghent,  third  son  of  the 
same  great  Edward.  He  was  as  accomplished  and  as  unprin- 
cipled as  he  was  nobly  descended. 

20.  The  Countess  Richmond: — The  Countess  of  Richmond  was 
Margaret,  the  only  child  of  John  Beaufort,  the  first  Duke  of 
Sorrerset.  Margaret's  first  husband  was  Edmund,  Earl  of  Rich- 
mond, son  of  Owen  Tudor,  by  whom  she  became  the  mother  of 
Henry  VII.  Afterwards  she  was  married  successively  to  Sir 
Henry  Stafford,  uncle  of  Buckingham,  and  to  the  Earl  of  Derby 
of  this  play,  but  had  no  more  children.  She  lived  to  a  great  age, 
and  was  so  highly  reputed  for  prudence  and  virtue,  that  her 
grandson,  Henry  VIII.,  was  mainly  guided  by  her  advice  in 
forming  his  first  council. 

167.  banished : — Margaret  fled  into  France  after  the  battle  of 
Hexham,  in  1464,  and  Edward  issued  a  proclamation  prohibiting 
any  of  his  subjects  from  aiding  her  return,  or  harbouring  her. 
should  she  attempt  to  revisit  England.  She  remained  abroad  till 
April.  1471,  when  she  landed  at  Weymouth.  After  the  battle  of 
Tewksbnry.  in  Mav,  1471.  she  was  confined  in  the  Tower,  where 
she  continued  a  prisoner  till  1475,  when  she  was  ransomed  by  her 

184 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

father  Reignier,  and  removed  to  France,  where  she  died  in  1482. 
So  that  her  introduction  here  is  a  dramatic  fiction. 

228.  Thou  elvish-mark' d,  etc.: — It  was  an  old  prejudice,  which 
is  not  yet  quite  extinct,  that  those  who  are  defective  or  deformed 
are  marked  by  mischievous  or  malignant  elves.  She  calls  him 
hog,  in  allusion  to  his  cognizance,  which  was  a  hoar.  "The  ex- 
pression," says  Warburton,  "  is  fine :  remembering  her  youngest 
son,  she  alludes  to  the  ravage  which  hogs  make  with  the  finest 
flowers  in  gardens,  intimating  that  Elizabeth  was  to  expect  no 
other  treatment  for  her  sons."  The  rhyme  of  CoUingbourne,  as 
given  in  Heywood's  Edivard  IV.,  will  illustrate  this : — 

"  The  cat,  the  rat.  and  Lovell  our  dog. 
Doe  rule  all  England  under  a  hog. 
The  crooke  backt  boore  the  way  hath  found 
To  root  our  roses  from  our  ground, 
Both  flower  and  bud  will  be  confound, 
Till  king  of  beasts  the  swine  be  crown'd : 
And  then  the  dog,  the  cat,  and  rat 
Shall  in  his  trough  feed  and  be  fat." 

The  persons  aimed  at  in  this  rhyme  were  the  king,  Catesby,  Rat- 
cliff,  and  Lovel. 

Scene  IV. 

10.  Clarence  was  desirous  to  aid  his  sister  Margaret  against  the 
French  king,  who  invaded  her  jointure  lands  after  the  death  of 
her  husband,  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  was  killed  at 
Nanci,  in  January,  1477. 

80,  81.  They  often  suffer  real  miseries  for  imaginary  and  unreal 
gratifications. 

284.  The  Duke  of  Clarence  was  arraigned  for  treason  before  the 
Parliament,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  death.  This  was  in 
February,  1478,  and  a  few  days  later  it  was  announced  that  he 
had  died  in  the  Tower.  So  that  this  first  Act  of  the  play  embraces 
a  period  of  nearly  seven  years,  the  death  of  King  Henry  having 
occurred  in  May,  1471.  The  manner  of  Clarence's  death  has  never 
been  ascertained.  It  was  generally  attributed  to  the  machinations 
of  Richard.  This  suspicion  is  referred  to  by  Holinshed,  Sir 
Thomas  More,  and  other  writers  of  their  time.  There  was  a  fierce 
grudge  between  the  dukes,  growing  out  of  their  rapacity  towards 
the  Warwick  estates. 

185 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  UF 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

69-72.  /  do  not  knozv  .  .  .  humility,  etc.: — In  his  Eikono- 
klastcs,  Milton  refers  to  this  passage  :  "  The  poets,  and  some  Eng- 
Hsh  have  been  in  this  point  so  mindful  of  decorum,  as  to  put  never 
more  pious  words  in  the  mouth  of  any  person  than  of  a  tyrant. 
1  shall  not  instance  an  abstruse  author,  wherein  the  king  might  be 
less  conversant,  but  one  whom  we  well  know  was  the  closest 
companion  of  these  his  solitudes,  William  Shakespeare ;  who  in- 
troduced the  person  of  Richard  the  Third,  speaknig  in  as  high  a 
strain  of  piety  and  mortification  as  is  uttered  in  any  passage  in 
this  book,  and  sometimes  to  the  same  sense  and  purpose  with  some 
words  in  this  place.  I  intended  (saith  he)  not  only  to  oblige  my 
friends,  but  my  enemies.  The  like  saith  Richard."  Milton  here 
quotes  the  lines  above  indicated,  and  adds:  "Other  stuff  of  this 
sort  may  be  read  throughout  the  tragedy,  wherein  the  Poet  used 
not  much  license  in  departing  from  the  truth  of  history,  which 
delivers  him  a  deep  dissembler,  not  of  his  affections  only,  but  his 
religion." 

102  et  scq.  "  This  lamentation,"  says  Johnson,  "  is  very  tender 
and  pathetic.  The  recollection  of  the  good  qualities  of  Ihe  dead 
is  very  natural,  and  no  less  naturally  does  the  king  endeavour  to 
communicate  the  crime  to  others."  For  this  speech  the  Poet  had 
the  following  hint  in  Holinshed :  "  Sure  it  is,  that  although 
king  Edward  were  consenting  to  his  death,  yet  he  much  did  both 
lament  his  infortunate  chance,  and  repent  his  sudden  execution; 
insomuch  that,  when  anie  person  sued  to  him  for  the  pardon  of 
malefactors  condemned  to  death,  he  would  accustomablie  saie — 
'  Oh,  infortunate  brother !  for  whose  life  not  one  would  make 
sute ! '  •" 

Scene  II. 

{Enter  the  Duchess  of  York.]  Cecily,  daughter  of  Ralph  Ne- 
ville, first  earl  of  Westmoreland,  and  widow  of  Richard,  Duke  of 
York,  who  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Wakefield,  1460.  She  sur- 
vived her  husband  thirty-five  years,  living  till  the  year  1495. 

121.  Liidlozv. — Edward,  the  j^oung  prince,  in  his  father's  life- 
time, and  at  his  demise,  kept  his  household  at  Ludlow,  as  Prince 
of  Wales;  under  the  governance  of  the  Earl  of  Rivers,  his  uncle 

J86 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

by  the  mother's  side.  The  intention  of  his  being  sent  thither  was 
to  see  justice  done  in  the  Marches  and  by  his  presence  to  restrain 
the  Welshmen,  who  were  wild  and  unruly. 

Scene  III. 

12-15.  /;/  Jiini  .  .  .  govern  well: — We  may  hope  well  of  his 
government  under  all  circumstances ;  we  may  hope  this  of  his 
council  while  he  is  in  his  non-age,  and  of  himself  in  his  riper  years. 


ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Cardinal  Bourchier.]  Thomas  Bourchier  was 
made  a  cardinal,  and  elected  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  1464. 
He  died  in  i486. 

56.  sanctuary  children  : — This  argument  is  from  Sir  Thomas 
More's  History  of  Richard  III. :  "  Verilie  /  have  often  heard  of 
sanctuarie  men,  hut  I  never  heard  erste  of  sanctuarie  children. 
But  he  can  be  no  sanctuarie  manne,  that  neither  hath  wisedom  to 
desire  it,  nor  malice  to  deserve  it,  whose  life  or  libertie  can  by 
no  lawfull  processe  stand  in  jeopardie.  And  he  that  taketh  one 
out  of  sanctuarie  to  doo  him  good,  I  saye  plainlie  that  he  breaketh 
no  sanctuarie." 

79.  So  wise  so  young,  etc. : — "  I  have  knowne  children  lan- 
guishing of  the  splene,"  says  Bright,  in  his  Treatise  on  Melan- 
choly (1586),  "obstructed  and  altered  in  temper,  talke  with 
gravity  and  wisdome  surpassing  those  tender  years,  and  their 
judgements  carrying  a  marvellous  imitation  of  the  wisdome  of  the 
ancient,  having  after  a  sorte  attained  that  by  disease  which  other 
have  by  course  of  yeares ;  whereon  I  take  it  the  proverbe  ariseth, 
that  they  be  of  shorte  life  zvho  are  of  zvit  so  pregnant." 

82.  the  formal  vice.  Iniquity: — The  part  of  the  vice  or  jester  of 
the  old  morality  plays  appears  to  have  been  on  all  occasions  much 
the  same,  consisting  in  a  given  round  or  set  form  of  action;  for 
which  cause,  probably,  the  epithet  formal  is  here  applied  to  him. 
The  following  is  Gifford's  description  of  him :  "  He  appears  to 
have  been  a  perfect  counterpart  of  the  harlequin  of  the  modern 
stage,  and  had  a  twofold  office — to  instigate  the  hero  of  the  piece 

187 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

to  wickedness,  and  at  the  same  time  to  protect  him  from  the  devil, 
whom  he  was  permitted  to  buffet  and  baffle  with  his  wooden 
sword,  till  the  process  of  the  story  required  that  both  the  protector 
and  the  protected  should  be  carried  off  by  the  fiend ;  or  the  latter 
driven  roaring  from  the  stage,  by  some  miraculous  interposition  in 
favour  of  the  repentant  offender."  In  Ben  Jonson's  play,  The 
Devil  is  an  Ass,  we  have  among  the  characters,  Satan,  the  great 
Pevil;  Pug,  the  less  Devil;  Iniquity,  the  Vice. 

130,  131.  York  alludes  to  the  hump  on  Gloucester's  back,  which 
was  commodious  for  carrying  burdens :  So  in  Ulpian  Fulwell's 
Ars  Adulandi,  1576:  "Thou  hast  an  excellent  back  to  carry  my 
lord's  ape." 

Scene  II. 

33.  the  hoar : — Meaning,  of  course,  Richard,  whose  crest  was 
adorned  with  the  figure  of  that  amiable  beast. 

Scene  III. 

5.  God  keep  the  prince : — "  Queen  Elizabeth  Grey."  says  Wal- 
pole,  "is  deservedly  pitied  for  the  loss  of  her  two  sons;  but  the 
royalty  of  their  birth  has  so  engrossed  the  attention  of  historians, 
that  they  never  reckon  into  the  number  of  her  misfortunes  the 
murder  of  this  her  second  son.  Sir  Richard  Grey.  It  is  remark- 
able how  slightly  the  death  of  Earl  Rivers  is  always  mentioned, 
though  a  man  invested  with  such  high  offices  of  trust  and  dig- 
nity ;  and  how  much  we  dwell  on  the  execution  of  the  lord  cham- 
berlain Hastings,  a  man  in  every  light  his  inferior.  In  truth,  the 
generality  draw  their  ideas  of  English  story  from  the  tragic  rather 
than  the  historic  authors." 

Scene  IV. 

[Enter  .  .  .  the  Bishop  of  Ely.]  Dr.  John  Morton  was  elected 
to  the  See  of  Ely  in  1478.  He  was  advanced  to  the  See  of  Canter- 
bury in  i486,  and  appointed  Lord  Chancellor  in  1487.  He  died  in 
the  year  1500.  This  prelate  first  devised  the  scheme  of  putting  an 
end  to  the  long  contests  between  the  houses  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster, by  a  marriage  between  Henry.  Earl  of  Richmond,  and 
Elizabeth,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Edward  IV. ;  and  was  a  principal 

IBS 


KING  RICHARD  III,  Notes 

agent  in  procuring  Henry,  when  abroad,  to  enter  into  a  covenant 
for  the  purpose. 

5.  wants  but  nomination : — The  only  thing  wanting  is  the  nam- 
ing of  the  time  or  the  appointment  of  a  day  for  the  ceremony. 

33-35-  When  I  was  last,  etc. : — This  easy  affability  and  smooth- 
ness of  humour  when  going  about  the  blackest  and  bloodiest 
crimes  is  one  of  the  most  decisive  strokes  in  this  terrible  portrait. 
.  The  incident  is  thus  related  by  More :  "  These  lords  so  sitting 
togither  communing  of  this  matter,  the  protector  came  in  amongst 
them  first  about  nine  of  the  clocke,  saluting  them  courteouslie, 
and  excusing  himselfe  that  had  been  from  them  so  long,  saieing 
merilie  that  he  had  beene  a  sleeper  that  daie.  After  a  little  talking 
with  them  he  said  unto  the  Bishop  of  Elie — My  lord,  you  have 
verie  good  strawberies  at  your  garden  in  Holborne ;  I  require 
you,  let  us  have  a  messe  of  them.  Gladlie,  my  lord,  quoth  he ; 
would  God  I  had  some  better  thing  as  readie  to  your  pleasure  as 
that !  And  therewithall  in  all  hast  he  sent  his  servant  for  a  messe 
of  strawberies." 

61-80.  /  pray  you  all,  etc.: — More  gives  a  most  spirited  account 
of  this  proceeding :  "  Betweene  ten  and  eleven  he  returned  into 
the  chamber,  with  a  woonderful  soure  angrie  countenance,  knit- 
ting the  browes,  frowning  and  fretting,  and  gnawing  on  his  lips ; 
and  so  sat  him  downe  in  his  place.  All  the  lords  were  much  dis- 
maid  and  sore  marvelled  at  this  sudden  change.  Then,  when  he 
had  sitten  still  awhile,  thus  he  began  :  What  were  they  worthie 
to  have,  that  compasse  and  imagine  the  destruction  of  me,  being 
so  neere  of  bloud  unto  the  king,  and  protector  of  his  roiall  person 
and  his  realme?  At  this  question  all  the  lords  sat  sore  astonied, 
musing  much  whome  this  question  meant,  of  which  everie  man 
wist  himselfe  cleere.  Then  the  lord  chamberlaine  answered  and 
said,  that  they  were  worthie  to  be  punished  as  traitors,  whatso- 
ever they  were.  And  all  affirmed  the  same.  That  is,  quoth  he, 
yonder  sorceresse,  my  brothers  wife,  and  other  with  hir.  Ye 
shall  all  see  in  what  wise  that  sorceresse,  and  that  other  witch 
of  hir  councell.  Shores  wife,  have  by  their  sorcerie  and  witch- 
craft wasted  my  bodie.  And  therewith  he  plucked  up  his  dublet 
sleeve  to  his  elbow  upon  his  left  arme,  where  he  shewed  a  weerish 
withered  arme,  and  small ;  as  it  was  never  other.  Hereupon  everie 
mans  mind  sore  misgave  them,  well  perceiving  that  this  matter 
was  but  a  quarrell.  For  they  well  wist  that  the  queene  was  too 
wise  to  go  about  anie  such  follie.  And,  also,  no  man  was  there 
present,  but  well  knew  that  his  arme  was  ever  such  cince  his  birth. 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Naithelesse  the  lord  chamberlaine  answered — Certainlie,  my  lord, 
if  they  have  so  heinouslie  doone,  they  be  worthie  heinous  punish- 
ment. What !  quoth  the  protector,  thou  servest  me,  I  weene,  with 
ifs  and  ands :  I  tell  thee  they  have  so  doone,  and  that  I  will  make 
good  on  thy  bodie,  traitor.  And  therewith,  as  in  a  great  anger, 
he  clapped  his  fist  upon  the  boord  a  great  rap ;  at  which  token  one 
cried.  Treason !  without  the  chamber.  Therewith  a  doore  clapped, 
and  in  come  there  rushing  men  in  harnesse,  as  manie  as  the  cham- 
ber might  hold.  And  anon  the  protector  said  to  the  Lord  Has- 
tings— I  arrest  thee,  traitor!  What,  me!  my  lord?  quoth  he.  Yea, 
thee,  traitor,  quoth  the  protector.  Then  were  they  all  quicklie  be- 
stowed in  diverse  chambers,  except  the  lord  chamberlaine,  whome 
the  protector  bad  speed  and  shrive  him  apace ;  for,  by  Saint  Paule, 
quoth  he,  I  will  not  to  dinner  till  I  see  thy  head  off." 

86.  Three  times  to-day,  etc.: — This  is  from  Sir  Thomas  More: 
"  In  riding  toward  the  Tower  the  same  morning  in  which  he  was 
beheaded,  his  horse  twice  or  thrice  stumbled  with  him,  almost  to 
the  falling ;  which  thing,  albeit  each  man  wot  well  daily  happeneth 
to  them  to  whome  no  such  mischance  is  toward ;  yet  hath  it  beene 
of  an  old  rite  and  custome  observed  as  a  token  oftentimes  notablie 
foregoing  some  great  misfortune." 

109.  They  smile  at  me,  etc. : — Hastings  was  beheaded  on  the 
13th  of  June,  1483.  His  eldest  son  by  Catherine  Neville,  daughter 
of  Richard  Neville,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  widow  of  William 
Lord  Bonville,  was  restored  to  his  honours  and  estate  by  King 
Henry  VH.  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign.  The  daughter  of  Lady 
Hastings,  by  her  first  husband,  was  married  to  the  Marquis  of 
Dorset,  who  appears  in  the  present  play. 


Scene  V. 

69.  come  too  late  of  our  intents : — In  common  speech  a  similar 
phrase  is  used — to  come  short  of  a  thing. 

76-79.  a  citizen,  etc. : — This  person  was  one  Walker,  a  substan- 
tial citizen  and  grocer,  at  the  Crown  in  Cheapside.  These  topics 
of  Edward's  cruelty,  lust,  unlawful  marriage,  etc.,  are  enlarged 
upon  in  that  most  extraordinary  invective,  the  petition  presented 
to  Richard  before  his  accession,  which  was  afterwards  turned  into 
an  Act  of  Parliament. 

98.  Baynard's  Castle: — This  castle  was  built  by  Baynard,  a 
nobleman,  who  is  said  to  have  come  in  with  William  the  Con- 

190 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

queror.  It  stood  on  the  bank  of  the  river  in  Thames  street,  but 
vas  swept  away  by  the  commercial  necessities  of  London. 

103,  104.  Dr.  Shaw  was  brother  to  the  Lord  Mayor ;  Penker, 
according  to  Speed,  was  provincial  of  the  Augustine  friars ;  and 
both  were  popular  preachers  of  the  time. 

107.  the  brats  of  Clarence : — Edward  and  Margaret,  known 
afterwards  as  Earl  of  Warwick  and  Countess  of  Salisbury. 

Scene  VII. 

The  Baynard's  Castle  scene  in  the  third  Act  is  called  by  Brandes 
an  unforgetable  passage.  "  Richard  has  cleared  away  all  obstacles 
on  his  path  to  the  throne.  His  elder  brother  Clarence  is  mur- 
dered— drowned  in  a  butt  of  wine.  Edward's  young  sons  are 
presently  to  be  strangled  in  prison.  Hastings  has  just  been  hur- 
ried to  the  scaffold  without  trial  or  form  of  law.  The  thing  is 
now  to  avoid  all  appearance  of  complicity  in  these  crimes,  and  to 
seem  austerely  disinterested  with  regard  to  the  crown.  To  this 
end  he  makes  his  rascally  henchman,  Buckingham,  persuade  the 
simple-minded  and  panic-stricken  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  with 
other  citizens  of  repute,  to  implore  him,  in  spite  of  his  seeming 
reluctance,  to  mount  the  throne." 

5.  Lady  Lucy : — The  king  had  been  familiar  with  this  lady  be- 
fore his  marriage  to  the  present  queen,  to  obstruct  which  his 
mother  alleged  a  precontract  between  them.  But  Elizabeth  Lucy, 
being  sworn  to  speak  the  truth,  declared  that  the  king  had  not 
been  affianced  to  her,  though  she  owned  she  had  been  his  concu- 
bine. 

9.  his  own  bastardy : — This  tale  is  supposed  to  have  been  first 
propagated  by  the  Duke  of  Clarence  when  he  obtained  a  settle- 
ment of  the  crown  on  himself  and  his  issue  after  the  death  of 
Henry  VL  Sir  Thomas  More  says  that  the  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
soon  after  Edward's  death,  revived  this  scandal. 

189.  Bigamy,  by  a  canon  of  the  Council  of  Lyons,  A.  D.  1274 
(adopted  in  England  by  a  statute  in  4  Edward  L),  was  made  un- 
lawful and  infamous.  It  differed  from  polygamy,  or  having  two 
wives  at  once;  as  it  consisted  in  either  marrying  two  virgins  suc- 
cessively, or  once  marrying  a  widow. 

193.  some  alive : — Buckingham  here  hints  at  the  pretended  bas- 
tardy of  Edward  and  Clarence.  By  some  alive  is  meant  the 
Duchess  of  York,  the  mother  of  Edward  and  Richard. 

191 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ACT  FOURTH. 

Scene  I. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Anne,  Duchess  of  Gloucester.]  We  have  not 
seen  this  lady  since  the  second  Scene  of  the  first  Act,  in  which  she 
promised  to  meet  Richard  at  Crosby  Place.  She  was  married  to 
him  about  the  year  1472. 

Scene  II. 

58,  59.  give  out  .  .  .  die : — The  matter  of  the  passage  is 
thus  given  in  Holinshed :  "  After  this  he  procured  a  rumour  to  be 
spred  among  the  people,  that  the  queene  was  dead ;  to  the  intent 
that  she,  taking  some  conceit  of  this  strange  fame,  should  fall  into 
some  sudden  sicknesse  or  greevous  maladie.  When  the  queene 
heard  that  so  horrible  a  rumour  was  sprung  amongst  the  com- 
munaltie,  she  sore  suspected  the  world  to  be  almost  at  an  end 
with  hir.  And  in  that  sorrowfull  agonie  she  went  to  the  king  hir 
husband,  demanding  of  him  what  it  should  meane,  that  he  had 
judged  hir  worthie  to  die.  The  king  answered  hir  with  faire 
words,  and  with  smiling  and  flattering  leasings  comforted  hir,  and 
bid  hir  be  of  good  cheere.  Howsoever  it  fortuned,  cither  by  pen- 
siveness  of  hart,  or  by  infection  of  poison,  within  a  few  dales  after 
the  queene  departed  out  of  this  transitorie  life." 

109.  Rougcmont : — Shakespeare,  doubtless,  worked  upon  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  Holinshed :  "  During  his  abode  here  he  went 
about  the  citie  and  at  length  he  came  to  the  castell ;  and  when  he 
understood  that  it  was  called  Rugemont,  suddenlie  he  fell  into  a 
dumpe,  and  said,  Well,  I  see  my  dales  be  not  long.  He  spake  this 
of  a  prophesie  told  him,  that  when  he  came  once  to  Richmond,  he 
should  not  long  live  after."  How  much  the  fact,  or  rather,  per- 
haps, the  fancy,  was  thought  of,  may  be  inferred  from  what  Fuller 
says  of  it  in  his  account  of  Exeter :  "  There  is  in  this  city  a  castle, 
whitherto  King  Richard  the  usurper  repaired.  He  demanded  of 
the  inhabitants  how  they  called  their  castle;  who  returned  the 
name  thereof  was  Rugemont.  Hereat  the  usurper  was  much 
abashed,  having  been  informed  by  wizards  that  he  should  never 
prosper  after  he  had  met  a  thing  called  Rugemont.  It  seems 
Satan  either  spoke  this  oracle  low  or  lisping,  desirous  to  palliate 
his  fallacy  and  ignorance ;  or  that  King  Richard  mistook  the  word, 

192 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

seeing  not  Rugemont  but  Richmond  proved  so  formidable  to  this 
usurper." 

Scene  III. 

31-35.  Come  to  me,  etc.: — Here  again  the  Poet  runs  close  along 
More's  narrative  as  he  found  it  in  Hall  or  Holinshed:  "Sir 
James  Tirrell  devised  that  they  should  be  murthered  in  their 
beds.  To  the  execution  whereof  he  appointed  Miles  Forrest,  one 
of  the  foure  that  kept  them,  a  fellow  fleshed  in  murther  before- 
time.  To  him  he  joined  one  John  Dighton,  his  owne  horsse- 
keeper,  a  big,  broad,  square,  and  strong  knave.  Then  all  the 
other  being  removed,  this  Miles  Forrest  and  John  Dighton  about 
midnight,  the  seelie  children  lieng  in  their  beds,  came  into  the 
chamber,  and,  suddenlie  lapping  them  up  among  the  clothes,  so 
to-bewrapped  them  an  intangled  them,  that  within  a  while, 
smoothered  and  stifled,  they  gave  up  to  God  their  innocent  soules 
leaving  to  the  tormentors  their  bodies  dead  in  the  bed.  Which 
after  that  the  wretches  perceived,  they  laid  their  bodies  naked  out 
upon  the  bed,  and  fetched  Sir  James  to  see  them ;  which,  upon 
the  sight  of  them,  caused  those  murtherers  to  burie  them  at  the 
staire  foot,  meetlie  deepe  in  the  ground,  under  a  great  heape  of 
stones.  Then  rode  Sir  James  in  hast  to  King  Richard,  and 
showed  him  all  the  maner  of  the  murther,  who  gave  him  great 
thanks,  and,  as  some  saie,  there  made  him  knight.  But  he  allowed 
not,  as  I  have  heard,  the  burieng  in  so  vile  a  corner,  because 
they  were  a  kings  sonnes.  Whereupon,  they  say,  that  a  priest  of 
sir  Robert  Brakenburies  tooke  up  the  bodies  againe,  and  secretlie 
interred  them  in  such  place  as,  by  the  occasion  of  his  death  which 
onelie  knew  it,  could  never  since  come  to  light.  Verie  truth  it 
is,  and  well  knowne,  that  at  such  time  as  Sir  James  Tirrell  was 
in  the  Tower,  for  treason  against  King  Henrie  the  seventh,  both 
Dighton  and  he  were  examined,  and  confessed  the  murther  in 
maner  above  written."     This  is  the  last  we  have  from  More. 

Scene  IV. 

291-336.  The  following  basis  for  this  speech  and  the  matter 
thereabout  is  found  in  the  narrative  of  the  chronicler  Hall: 
"  There  came  into  his  ungracious  mind  a  thing  not  onelie  detest- 
able to  be  spoken  of,  but  much  more  abhominable  to  be  put  in 
execution.     For  when  he  revolved  in  his  mind  how  great  a  foun- 

193 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

teine  of  mischeefe  toward  him  should  spring,  if  the  Earle  of  Rich- 
mond should  be  advanced  to  the  marriage  of  his  neece,  he  deter- 
mined to  reconcile  to  his  favour  Queene  Elizabeth,  either  by  faire 
words  or  liberall  promises ;  firmlie  beleeving,  her  favour  once 
obteined,  that  the  Earle  of  Richmond  of  the  affinitie  of  his  neece 
should  be  utterlie  defrauded.  And  it  no  remedie  could  be  other- 
wise invented,  then  he  himselfe  would  rather  take  to  wife  his 
neece  the  Ladie  Elizabeth,  than  for  lacke  of  that  affinitie  the  whole 
realme  should  run  to  ruin;  as  who  said,  that  if  he  once  fell  from 
his  dignitie  the  ruin  of  the  realme  must  needs  shortlie  follow. 
Wherefore  he  sent  to  the  queene,  being  in  sanctuarie,  diverse  and 
often  messengers,  which  first  should  excuse  and  purge  him  of  all 
things  before  against  hir  attempted  or  procured,  and  after  should 
so  largelie  promise  promotions  and  benefits  not  onelie  to  hir,  but 
also  to  hir  sonne  Lord  Thomas,  Marqueese  Dorset,  that  they 
should  bring  hir,  if  it  were  possible,  into  some  wanhope,  or,  as 
men  sale,  into  a  fooles  paradise." 

430.  The  issue  of  the  negotiations  with  Elizabeth  is  thus  stated 
in  Holinshed :  ''  The  messengers,  being  men  of  wit  and  gravitie. 
so  persuaded  the  queene  with  great  and  pregnant  reasons,  and 
what  with  faire  and  large  promises,  that  she  began  somewhat 
to  relent,  and  to  give  to  them  no  deafe  ear ;  insomuch  that  she 
faithfullie  promised  to  yeeld  hirselfe  fullie  to  the  kings  will  and 
pleasure.  And  so  she,  putting  in  oblivion  the  murther  of  hir  in- 
nocent children,  the  living  in  adulterie  laid  to  hir  charge,  the  bas- 
tarding  of  hir  daughters;  forgetting  also  the  promise  and  oath 
made  to  the  Countesse  of  Richmond,  mother  to  the  Earle  Henrie, 
delivered  into  King  Richards  hands  hir  five  daughters,  as  lambs 
committed  to  the  custodie  of  the  ravenous  woolfe.  After,  she  sent 
letters  to  the  marqueese  hir  sonne,  being  then  at  Paris  with  the 
Earle  of  Richmond,  willing  him  in  anie  wise  to  leave  the  earle, 
and  without  delaie  to  repair  into  England,  where  for  him  were 
provided  great  honours  and  promotions ;  ascerteining  him  fur- 
ther, that  all  offenses  on  both  parts  were  forgotten  and  forgiven, 
and  both  he  and  she  highlie  incorporated  in  the  kings  heart. 
Suerlie  the  inconstancie  of  this  woman  were  much  to  be  mar- 
velled at,  if  all  women  had  beene  found  constant ;  but  let  men 
speake,  yet  women  of  the  verie  bond  of  nature  will  follow  their 
owne  sex." 

472.  What  heir  of  York,  etc. : — "  There  were  other  heirs,"  says 
White,  "  who  had  a  better  title  than  Richard,  as  Malone  remarked 
— Elizabeth  and  the  other  daughters  of  Edward  IV.,  and  Edward, 

194 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

son  of  Richard's  elder  brother,  the  Duke  of  Clarence;  and  al- 
though, as  Ritson  rejoined,  Edward's  issue  had  been  pronounced 
illegitimate,  and  Clarence  attainted  of  high  treason,  yet  this  was 
unjustly  done  by  procurement  of  Richard  himself." 

496,497.  leave  behind  your  son,  George  Stanley: — Here  is  the 
chronicler's  statement  of  the  matter :  "  When  the  said  Lord 
Stanlie  would  have  departed  into  his  countrie,  to  visit  his  familie, 
and  to  recreate  and  refresh  his  spirits,  (as  he  openlie  said,  but  the 
truth  was,  to  the  intent  to  be  in  a  perfect  readinesse  to  receive  the 
Earle  of  Richmond  at  his  first  arrivall  in  England.)  the  king  in  no 
wise  would  suffer  him  to  depart,  before  he  had  left  as  an  hostage 
in  the  court  George  Stanlie,  Lord  Strange,  his  first-begotten  sonne 
and  heire." 

529.  Hoised  sail :— On  the  12th  of  October,  1483,  Richmond  set 
sail  from  St.  Malo  in  Brittany  with  forty  ships  and  five  thousand 
men.  In  the  course  of  that  very  day  his  fleet  was  seized  by  a 
storm,  shattered,  and  utterly  dispersed.  The  rest  we  give  in  the 
words  of  Holinshed :  "  In  the  morning  after,  when  the  rage  of 
the  tempest  was  asswaged,  about  the  houre  of  noone  the  earle 
approched  to  tlie  mouth  of  the  haven  of  Pole  in  the  countie  of 
Dorset,  where  he  might  plainlie  perceive  all  the  bankes  and  shores 
garnished  and  furnished  with  men  of  warre  and  souldiers,  ap- 
pointed there  to  defend  his  arrivall  and  landing.  Wherefore  he 
gave  streict  charge  that  no  person  should  presume  to  take  land, 
untill  such  time  as  the  whole  navie  were  come  togither.  And 
while  he  taried  he  sent  out  a  ^hipboate  toward  the  land  side,  to 
know  whether  they  which  stood  there  were  enimies  or  else 
freends.  They  that  were  sent  were  instantlie  desired  of  the  men  of 
warre  keeping  the  coast  to  take  land,  affirming  that  they  were 
appointed  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  there  to  await  for  the 
arrivall  of  the  Earle  of  Richmond,  and  to  conduct  him  safelie  into 
the  campe,  where  the  duke  not  far  off  laie  with  a  mightie  armie. 
The  earle.  suspecting  their  request  to  be  but  a  fraud,  as  it  was 
indeed,  after  he  perceived  none  of  his  ships  to  appeare  in  sight, 
weied  up  his  anchors,  halsed  up  his  sailes,  and,  having  a  fresh  gale 
sent  by  God  to  deliver  him  from  that  perill,  arrived  safe  in  the 
duchie  of  Normandie." 

534  535-  Richmond  .  .  .  Milford: — The  Earl  of  Richmond 
embarked  with  about  two  thousand  men  at  Harfleur,  in  Nor- 
mandy, August  I,  1485,  and  landed  at  Milford  Haven  on  the  7th. 
He  directed  his  course  to  Wales,  hoping  the  Welsh  would  receive 
him  cordially  as  their  countryman,  he  having  been  born  at  Pern- 

195    • 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

broke,  and  his  grandfather  being  Owen  Tudor,  who  married 
Catharine  of  France,  the  widow  of  Henry  V.  and  mother  of 
Henry  VI. 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

12.  All-Souls'  day : — Buckingham  was  executed  on  All-Saints' 
day,  November  i,  1483.  The  story  is  told  thus  by  the  chroniclers: 
"  The  duke,  being  by  certeine  of  the  kings  councell  diligentlie 
examined,  what  things  he  knew  prejudiciall  unto  the  kings  per- 
son, declared  franklie  all  the  conjuration,  without  glosing;  trust- 
ing, because  he  had  plainlie  revealed  all  things,  that  he  should 
have  licence  to  speake  to  the  king;  which,  whether  it  were  to  sue 
for  pardon,  or  whether  he,  being  brought  to  his  presence,  would 
have  sticked  him  zvith  a  dagger,  as  men  thought,  he  sore  desired. 
But  when  he  had  confessed  the  whole  conspiracie,  upon  All-soules 
daie,  without  arreigment  or  judgement,  he  was  at  Salisburie,  in 
the  open  market-place,  on  a  new  scaffold,  beheaded  and  put  to 
death." 

19.  the  determined  respite  of  my  zvrongs: — The  end  of  the  time 
for  which  the  punishment  of  his  misdeeds  was  put  off. 

Scene  11. 

We  have  already  noted  that  on  his  father's  side  the  Earl  of 
Richmond  was  grandson  to  Owen  Tudor  and  Catharine  of  France, 
widow  of  Henry  V.  His  mother  was  Margaret,  daughter  and 
heir  to  John  Beaufort,  the  first  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  great- 
granddaughter  to  John  of  Ghent  by  Catharine  Swynford ;  on 
which  account,  after  the  death  of  Henry  VI.  and  his  son,  Rich- 
mond was  looked  to  by  both  friends  and  foes  as  the  next  male 
representative  of  the  Lancastrian  line.  The  first  Beauforts  were 
born  out  of  wedlock,  though  their  parents  were  afterwards  mar- 
ried. The  children  were  legitimated,  but  the  act  of  legitimation 
expressly  barred  them  and  their  posterity  from  the  throne.  So 
that  in  himself  Richmond  had  no  legal  claim  to  the  kingdom. 
Nevertheless  the  Lancastrians  all  regarded  him  as  their  natural 
chief;  and  many  of  the  Yorkists  accepted  him  because  of  his 
having  bound   himself  by   solemn   oath   to   marry  the   Princess 

196 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

Elizabeth,  whom  they  of  course  considered  the  rightful  heir  to 
the  crown  after  the  death  of  her  brothers. 

Scene  III. 

II.  trebles  that  account: — Richmond's  forces  are  said  to  have 
been  only  five  thousand ;  and  Richard's  army  consisted  of  about 
twelve  thousand.  But  Lord  Stanley  lay  at  a  small  distance  with 
three  thousand  men,  and  Richard  may  be  supposed  to  have  reck- 
oned on  them  as  his  friends,  though  the  event  proved  otherwise. 

19.  [Enter,  on  the  other  side  of  the  field,  Richmond,  etc.]  "  It 
should  be  remembered,"  as  observed  by  White,  "  that  the  field 
was  represented  by  a  platform  about  as  large  as  the  floor  of  a 
drawing-room  in  a  modern  full-sized  house.  The  representatives 
of  Richard  and  Richmond  were  actually  within  easy  conversa- 
tional distance  of  each  other,  and  could  almost  have  shaken 
hands ;  and  the  tents,  of  course,  occupied  the  same  relative  posi- 
tions. Such  were  the  arrangements  of  our  primitive  stage.  We 
now,  by  the  aid  of  scene-painters  and  carpenters,  and  at  the  sound 
of  the  prompter's  whistle,  separate  the  representatives  of  York 
and  Lancaster  by  certain  yards  of  coloured  canvas,  and  our  stage 
ghosts  address  themselves  to  Richard  only ;  and  there  are  those 
who,  forgetting  that  the  stage  does  not,  never  can,  and  should  not 
if  it  could,  represent  the  facts  of  real  life,  think  that  we  have 
gained  greatly  by  the  change.  Sir  William  Brandon,  who  bore 
Richmond's  standard,  was  father  to  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  who  married  Mary,  the  sister  of  Henry  VIIL  and  the 
widow  of  Louis  XH.  of  France.  The  Folio  directs  Dorset  to 
enter  here;  but  Dorset,  at  this  time,  was  in  pawn  to  a  royal 
money-lender,  Charles  VIIL  of  France,  for  ready  cash  advanced 
to  furnish  Richmond  forth.  As  Shakespeare  quite  surely  knew 
this  from  the  chronicles  which  he  consulted  in  the  preparation  of 
the  play,  and  as  the  mistake  is  one  that  might  easily  have  crept 
into  the  prompter's  book,  being  a  mere  stage-direction,  it  may  be 
corrected  without  authority." 

118.  [Enter  the  ghost,  etc.]  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  intro- 
duction of  the  ghosts  may  have  been  suggested  by  the  following 
passage  in  The  True  Tragedie  of  Richard  the  Third : — 

"  The  hell  of  life  that  hangs  upon  the  crown, 
The  daily  cares,  the  nightly  dreams. 
The  wretched  crews,  the  treason  of  the  foe, 

197 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  horror  of  my  bloody  practice  past, 
Strikes  such  a  terror  to  my  wounded  conscience, 
That,  sleep  I,  wake  I,  or  whatsoever  I  do, 
Methinks  their  ghosts  come  gaping  for  revenge, 
Whom  I  have  slain  in  reaching  for  a  crown. 
Clarence  complains,  and  crieth  for  revenge ; 
My  nephews'  blood,  Revenge !  revenge !  doth  cry ; 
The  headless  peers  come  pressing  for  revenge; 
And  every  one  cries,  Let  the  tyrant  die !  " 

176.  [The  Ghosts  vanish.]  In  this  series  of  speeches  the  Poet 
has  given  a  "  local  habitation  and  a  name "  to  what  is  thus 
stated  in  the  Chronicles :  "  The  fame  went,  that  he  had  the  same 
night  a  terrible  dreame ;  for  it  seemed  to  him,  being  asleepe,  that 
he  did  see  diverse  images  like  terrible  divels,  which  pulled  and 
haled  him,  not  suffering  him  to  take  anie  quiet  or  rest.  The 
which  strange  vision  not  so  suddenlie  strake  his  heart  with  feare, 
but  it  stuffed  his  head  with  many  busie  and  dreadfuU  imagina- 
tions. For  incontinent  after,  his  heart  being  almost  damped,  he 
prognosticated  the  doubtfull  chance  of  the  battle,  not  using  the 
alacritie  and  mirth  of  mind  and  countenance  as  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  doo.  And  least  that  it  might  be  suspected  that  he  was 
abashed  for  feare  of  his  enimies,  and  for  that  cause  looked  so 
piteouslie,  he  declared  to  his  familiar  freends  in  the  morning  his 
wonderfull  vision  and  fearfull  dreame." 

179-206.  O  coward  conscience,  etc. : — "  These  are  such  pangs  of 
conscience  as  would  sometimes  beset  even  the  strongest  and  most 
resolute  in  those  days  when  faith  and  superstition  were  still 
powerful,  and  when  even  one  who  scoffed  at  religion  and  made 
a  tool  of  it  had  no  assurance  in  his  heart  of  hearts.  There  is  in 
these  words,  too,  a  purely  human  sense  of  loneliness  and  of  cra- 
ving for  affection,  which  is  valid  for  all  time." 

301.  This,  and  Saint  George  to  boot! — "  This,  and  St.  George 
to  help  us,  into  the  bargain."  The  historian  makes  him  say, 
"  Now,  saint  George  to  borrow" ;  which  means,  St.  George  be  our 
pledge  or  security.  This  ordering  of  the  battle  is  from  the 
Chronicles:  "King  Richard,  bringing  all  his  men  out  of  their 
campe  into  the  plaine,  ordered  his  foreward  in  a  marvellous 
length,  in  which  he  appointed  both  horsmen  and  footmen,  to  the 
intent  to  imprint  in  the  hearts  of  them  that  looked  afarre  off  a 
sudden  terror  and  deadlie  feare;  and  in  the  fore-front  he  placed 
the  archers  like  a  strong  fortified  trench  or  bulworke.     Over  this 

198 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Notes 

battell  was  capteine,  John  Duke  of  Norffolke,  with  whom  was 
Thomas  Earl  of  Surie,  his  sonne.  After  this  long  vant-gard 
followed  King  Richard  himselfe  with  a  strong  companie  of  chosen 
and  approoved  men  of  warre,  having  horssemen  for  wings  on 
both  sides  of  his  battell." 

314-326.  What  shall  I  say  more,  etc. : — Thus  Holinshed:  "  You 
see  further,  how  a  company  of  traitors,  thieves,  outlaws,  and 
runagates,  be  aiders  and  partakers  of  this  feate  and  enterprise. 
And  to  begin  with  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  captaine  of  this  re- 
bellion, he  is  a  Welsh  milksop,  brought  up  by  my  moother's 
means  and  mine,'  like  a  captive  in  a  close  cage  in  the  court  of 
Francis  Duke  of  Britaine."  Holinshed  copied  this  from  Hall ; 
but  his  printer  has  given  us  by  accident  the  word  moother  in- 
stead of  brother;  as  it  is  in  the  original,  and  ought  to  be  in 
Shakespeare.  In  the  first  edition  of  Holinshed  the  word  is  rightly 
printed  brother.  So  that  this  circumstance  not  only  shows  that 
the  Poet  follows  Holinshed,  but  points  out  the  edition  used  by 
him. 

346.  let  George  Stanley  die : — So  in  Holinshed :  "  When  King 
Richard  was  come  to  Bosworth,  he  sent  a  pursevant  to  the  Lord 
Stanlie,  commanding  him  to  advance  with  his  companie ;  which 
if  he  refused  to  doo,  he  sware  by  Christes  passion,  that  he  would 
strike  oft'  his  sonnes  head  before  he  dined.  The  Lord  Stanlie 
answered,  that  if  the  king  did  so,  he  had  more  sonnes  alive ;  and 
as  to  come  to  him,  he  was  not  then  so  determined.  When  King 
Richard  heard  this,  he  commanded  the  Lord  Strange  incontinent 
to  be  beheaded ;  which  was  at  that  verie  same  season  when  both 
the  armies  had  sight  of  ech  other.  But  the  councellors  persuaded 
the  king  that  it  was  now  time  to  fight,  and  no  time  to  execute." 

Scene  IV. 

7-10.  A  horse!  etc.: — Here  once  more  we  have  a  slight  trace  of 
the  old  play : — 

King.  A  horse !  a  horse !  a  fresh  horse ! 
Page.  Ah !  fly,  my  lord,  and  save  your  life. 
King.  Fly,  villain  !     Look  I  as  though 
I  would  fly?— No!    .    .    . 

12.  Five  have  I  slain  : — Shakespeare  uses  this  incident  with  his- 
torical propriety  in  Henry  IV.,  V.  iv.  25  et  seq.  He  had  here 
also  good  ground  for  his  poetical  exaggeration.     Richard,  accord- 

log 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ing  to  the  Chronicles,  was  determined  if  possible  to  engage  with 
Richmond  in  single  combat.  For  this  purpose  he  rode  furiously 
to  that  quarter  of  the  field  where  the  earl  was ;  attacked  his 
standard-bearer,  Sir  William  Brandon,  and  killed  him ;  then  as- 
saulted Sir  John  Cheney,  whom  he  overthrew.  Having  thus  at 
length  cleared  his  way  to  his  antagonist,  he  engaged  in  single 
combat  with  him,  and  probably  would  have  been  victorious,  but 
that  at  that  Instant  Sir  William  Stanley  with  three  thousand  men 
joined  Richmond's  army,  and  the  royal  forces  fled  with  great 
precipitation.  Richard  was  soon  afterwards  overpowered  by 
numbers,  and  fell,  fighting  bravely  to  the  last  moment. 

Scene  V. 

4-7.  Lo,  here,  etc.: — Thus  in  the  Chronicles:  "When  the  Earle 
had  obteined  the  victorie.  he  kneeled  downe  and  rendered  to 
almightie  God  his  heartie  thanks,  with  devout  and  godlie  orisons. 
Which  praier  finished,  he  ascended  up  to  the  top  of  a  little  moun- 
teine,  where  he  not  onelie  praised  his  valiant  souldiers,  but  also 
gave  them  his  heartie  thanks,  with  promise  of  condigne  recom- 
pense for  their  fidelitie  and  valiant  feats.  Then  the  people  re- 
joised  and  clapped  their  hands,  crying.  King  Henrie,  king  Henrie ! 
When  the  Lord  Stanlie  [Derby]  saw  the  good  will  and  glad- 
nesse  of  the  people,  he  tooke  the  crowne  of  King  Richard,  which 
was  found  amongst  the  spoile  in  the  field,  and  set  it  on  the  earles 
head ;  as  though  he  had  beene  elected  by  the  voice  of  the  people, 
as  in  times  past  in  diverse  realmes  it  hath  beene  accustomed." 


200 


KING  RICHARD  III. 


Questions  on  Richard  III 


1.  Is  this  an  early  or  a  later  play  of  Shakespeare?  What  are 
the  metrical  peculiarities  that  help  to  establish  its  date? 

2.  Whose  influence  does  it  show  in  matters  of  character  con- 
ception, and  the  dominance  of  the  main  figure  in  the  drama? 

3.  What  time  is  covered  by  the  course  of  the  action? 

4.  In  what  play  is  Richard's  younger  life  presented?  What  is 
his  character  there,  and  m  what  acts  is  he  exhibited  that  have 
their  logical  completion  in  this  play? 

ACT  FIRST. 

5.  What  is  the  mood  of  Richard  in  the  opening  soliloquy? 
What  events  does  he  celebrate?  How  does  he  describe  himself? 
Does  this  description  provide  a  motive  for  his  villainy? 

6.  State  the  cause  of  Clarence's  arrest?  How  was  Richard 
implicated?  To  whom  does  he  impute  the  blame  in  talking  with 
Clarence? 

7.  What  is  the  physical  condition  of  King  Edward? 

8.  In  what  humour  does  Richard  comment  upon  his  contem- 
plated marriage  with  Lady  Anne?  What  is  his  motive  in  this 
alliance? 

9.  Show  the  dramatic  purpose  of  Anne's  lamentations.  Upon 
whom  does  she  call  down  curses? 

10.  What  traits  does  Anne  display  before  Richard  begins  with 
her  the  keen  encounter  of  wits?  Why  does  he  deny  having  killed 
Prince  Edward  and  King  Henry  and  then  almost  immediately 
acknowledge  it?  When  does  Anne  first  show  that  Richard's 
flatteries  have  begun  to  touch  her  vanity?  ^ 

11.  What  induces  Richard  to  offer  Anne  his  sword  and  bid 
her  slay  him?  Up  to  this  point  have  you  shared  the  same  belief 
respecting  her  that  Richard  shows?    What  prevents  her  striking? 

12.  In  quitting  the  scene  what  feeling  does  Anne  show?  In 
Sc.  i.  of  the  fourth  Act  how  does  she  account  for  her  yielding? 

201 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

13.  Analyze  the  state  of  mind  of  Richard  as  observed  in  the 
closing  speech  of  Sc.  ii. 

14.  To  what  office  does  Sc.  iii.  inform  us  that  Richard  will  ac- 
cede in  case  of  King  Edward's  death? 

15.  What  is  the  state  of  the  king's  household  and  the  appre- 
hensiveness  of  the  queen  concerning  the  state  of  afifairs? 

16.  How  does  Richard  make  use  of  circumstances  to  lay  blame 
for  the  imprisonment  of  Clarence  and  of  Hastings? 

17.  What  is  the  effect  of  Margaret's  entrance  at  this  point  of 
the  drama?  Where  has  she  come  from?  What  is  her  personal 
appearance?    How  long  is  it  since  the  battle  of  Tewksbury? 

18.  What  especial  words  rouse  her  passion?  How  does  Rich- 
ard in  lines  174  et  seq.  point  out  in  her  case  the  workings  of 
retributive  justice? 

19.  How  much  of  her  curse  is  prophetic  of  events  to  be  de- 
veloped in  the  action?  What  effect  has  her  curse  upon  Richard 
as  seen  by  the  way  he  turns  it  upon  herself? 

20.  What  does  she  say  to  Buckingham?  How  is  she  an- 
swered by  him  ? 

21.  How  does  Richard  urge  on  the  murderers  of  Clarence? 

22.  In  Clarence's  account  of  his  dream  (Sc.  iv.)  how  does  he 
reveal  the  ultimate  causes  of  the  disasters  that  he  is  suffering? 
How  does  conscience  work  with  him?  How  with  Brakenbury 
and  the  two  murderers?  Show  how  here  is  presented  the  dra- 
matic element  of  contrast. 

22).  What  passes  between  Clarence  and  the  murderers  con- 
cerning Richard?  Does  the  dramatist  lead  one  to  expect  that 
Clarence  should  recognize  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  con- 
tained in  his  dream? 

24.  What  is  the  immediate  effect  upon  the  two  murderers  of 
the  committal  of  the  deed?  Show  how  Shakespeare  differentiates 
the  characters  of  these  two. 


ACT  SECOND. 

25.  What  reconciliations  are  effected  at  the  opening  of  this 
Act?  What  is  Richard's  purpose  in  joining  in  them?  Is  it  by 
his  subtle  contrivance  that  the  blame  for  Clarence's  death  falls 
on  the  queen  and  her  family? 

26.  How  in  Sc.  ii.  is  Richard's  deceit  shown  in  comparison 
with  the  innocence  of  childhood? 

203 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Questions 

27.  Show  how,  as  the  Scene  progresses,  Shakespeare  has 
mingled  sympathy  and  antagonism  in  grief. 

28.  To  what  position  in  Richard's  confidence  has  Buckingham 
been  promoted  since  the  death  of  King  Edward?  What  is  Rich- 
ard's purpose  in  seeming  to  be  directed  by  another?  How  much 
of  their  uUerior  purpose  is  revealed? 

29.  Indicate  the  purpose  of  Sc.  iii.  What  does  Shakespeare 
think  of  boy  kings  ? 

30.  What  is  the  dramatic  effect  of  the  precociousness  of  the 
young  York? 

31.  What  news  is  brought  by  a  Messenger?  What  further 
than  the  actual  facts  disclosed  does  it  portend?  Where  does  the 
queen  go  with  young  York? 


ACT  THIRD. 

32.  What  is  Richard's  motive  in  accusing  the  Prince's  uncles  of 
deceit  ? 

33.  What  act  of  sacrilege  is  committed  through  the  advice  of 
Buckingham?  Characterize  the  reasoning  he  employs  to  the 
Cardinal. 

34.  Show  the  effect  of  the  Prince's  talk  about  Julius  Caesar, 
together  with  Richard's  asides.  What  is  further  intended  in 
York's  covert  taunts  to  Richard? 

35.  Who  first  proposes  openly  the  project  of  making  Richard 
king?  Mention  the  obstacles  that  seem  to  stand  in  the  way. 
What  is  Richard's  method  of  surmounting  them?  What  is  his 
mental  prepossession  concerning  his  future?  W^hat  rewards  does 
he  promise  Buckingham? 

36.  Who  is  meant  by  the  boar  in  the  allusions  of  Hastings  in 
Sc.  ii.?  Point  out  the  irony  of  his  speeches.  In  them  how  is  the 
note  again  and  again  struck? 

37  What  stroke  does  Buckingham  give  to  the  fatuousness  of 
Hastings?  Show  the  purpose  of  this  Scene  in  the  scheme  of  the 
drama. 

38.  How  does  Sc.  iii.  exhibit  nemesis?  What  are  the  retro- 
spective and  prophetic  elements  here  presented? 

39.  For  what  purpose  (Sc.  iv.)  was  the  assembly  met  in  the 
Tower  of  London?  Show  the  dramatic  effectiveness  of  Rich- 
ard's entrance.  What  is  indicated  by  the  episode  of  the  straw- 
berries?    What  does  Hastings  say  of  Richard's  manner? 

203 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

40.  What  pretext  does  he  use  to  turn  the  tables  upon  Hastings? 

41.  With  each  recurrent  tragedy  what  device  is  used  to  show 
the  shadow  of  nemesis? 

42.  What  is  intended  by  the  words  of  the  stage  direction  (Sc. 
V.)  concerning  Gloucester  and  Buckingham,  in  rotten  armour, 
marvellous  ill-favoured  ? 

43.  How  does  Richard  account  to  the  Lord  Mayor  for  the  death 
of  Hastings? 

44.  How  does  Richard  contrive  to  prove  the  illegitimacy  of  the 
Prince's  claim  to  the  throne?  Is  it  prudence  or  humanity  that 
makes  him  urge  some  reserve  in  casting  slanders  upon  his 
mother?    What  does  he  say  of  tJie  brats  of  Clarence? 

45.  What  was  the  result  of  Buckingham's  appeal  to  the  citi- 
zens in  Richard's  behalf?  How  is  Richard  to  appear  before  the 
Lord  Mayor? 

46.  What  arguments  does  Buckingham  use  to  urge  Richard  to 
accept  the  crown?  How  is  he  answered?  How  does  Richard 
finally  yield? 

ACT   FOURTH. 

47.  Where  is  the  lirst  Scene  enacted?  What  is  the  destination 
of  the  women  ?  Comment  on  the  manner  of  the  queen's  speech  in 
line   18.     What  does  Brakenbury's  blunder  foreshadow? 

48.  What  news  does  Stanley  bring?  Is  Richmond  mentioned 
for  the  first  time  in  line  43?  In  what  previous  play  has  he  ap- 
peared?   Why  was  he  absent  from  England? 

49.  How  does  Anne  recognize  the  ironic  stroke  of  destiny  in 
her  life? 

50.  What  is  Richard's  reflection  when  he  finds  himself  seated 
on  the  throne?  For  what  does  the  hesitation  of  Buckingham 
prepare  ? 

51.  Mention  the  exact  point  at  which  the  returning  action  be- 
gins.    What  news  is  brought  of  Dorset? 

52.  What  new  crimes  does  Richard  plan,  and  how  does  he 
talk  of  them? 

53.  How  does  the  news  concerning  Dorset  affect  Richard? 
How  does  he  show  his  superstition?  What  is  his  treatment  of 
Buckingham  ? 

54.  Compare  for  effect  of  pathos  the  recital  of  Tyrrel  in  Sc.  iii. 
with  the  scene  of  the  lamentation  over  Arthur  in  King  John. 
How  does  Richard  receive   Tyrrel?     Compare   him  with   King 

204 


KING  RICHARD  III.  Questions 

John  and  Henry  IV.    What  quality  of  cruelty  does  Richard  pos- 
t's'/ What  is  the  nature  of  Richard's  fear  of  Ely? 

,6    Comment  on  the  effect  of  mystery  produced  by  the  coming 
50.  ^ommem  .^  t.    Of  what  is  she  the  embodiment? 

H"ow'do?s  hL°dXu?(lc.  iv.)  with  the  Duchess  of  York  marU 
an  advance  upon  Margaret's  earUer  appearance.' 

57  What  completion  of  her  curse  does  she  find  to  taunt  the 
Dt^chess  with?  What  has  Queen  Margaret  sa>d  to  Queen  Ehza^ 
he  h  that  Ihe  summarizes  in  line  105?  For  what  m  the  scheme  of 
'^sticet  Elizabeth's  punishment?     Is  punishment  always  com- 

"Tnowtes  Margaret  teach  Elizabeth  to  curse? 

59  Wh"t  do  Elizabeth  and  the  Duchess  demand  of  R.chard 
Is  there  any  trace  of  fear  or  remorse  in  his  order  to  drown  the.r 

voices  with  the  trumpets? 

60  The  Duchess  lays  what  curse  upon  Richard. 

^Upon  what  frailties  in  Elizabeth  does  Richard  play  m 
sut^g  for  her  daughter?     What  is  the  finally  successful  argu- 

""fe  What  comment  does  he  pass  upon  her  after  her  exit? 
6-K   How  is  this  purpose  intercepted?  j„„i,„? 

64    How    does    Richard    lose    self-command    before    Catesby? 

^ef  H-  dol?dIstrust  of  his  adherents  grow  in  him?     What 
is  the  cumulative  effect  produced  by  the  arrival  of  messengers? 

66.  What  is  the  purpose  of  Sc.  v.? 

ACT  FIFTH. 

67.  Show   the  larger  purpose  of   Sc.   i.  beyond   recording  the 

doom  of  Buckingham.  . 

68.  What  stage  in  the  action  is  reached  by  be.  11.. 

69   Where   was   the   final   battle   of   the   Wars   of   the   Roses? 
What  apprehensiveness  does  Richard  show  at  the  beginning  of 

^'''io'How   does   Richmond   spend  the   night  before   the  battle? 
For  what  does  the  reference  to  Lord  Stanley  prepare? 

71    What  details  show  Richard's  growing  fear  of  disaster? 

72!  Who  visits  Richmond  in  his  tent?    What  relationship  exists 
between  them? 

205 


Questions  KING  RICHARD  III. 

yZ-  What  ghostly  visitors  come  before  Richard  in  his  sleep? 
Is  the  dramatic  and  psychologic  effect  of  these  impaired  by  hav- 
ing each  speak  to  Richmond? 

74.  What  does  Richard  say  of  his  conscience  after  he  awakes? 
What  does  he  say  of  love  and  pity?  Does  this  speech  prove  him 
to  be  not  wholly  outside  the  human  family? 

75.  What  condition  does  Richard  fall  into  upon  the  appearance 
of  Ratcliff? 

76.  State  the  tenour  of  Richmond's  address  to  his  soldiers. 

T].  How  does  action  affect  Richard's  fears  and  reflections  of 
the  previous  night  ? 

78.  What  report  comes  of  Lord  Stanley — the  same  character 
that  frequently  figures  in  this  edition  of  the  play  as  Lord  Derby? 

79.  What  is  Richard's  last  speech? 


80.  How  does  this  drama  differ  from  Macbeth  in  the  manner 
of  presenting  the  principal  character? 

8j.  Mention  some  of  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  success- 
ful accomplishment  of  such  a  characterization  as  Richard. 

82.  How  in  this  play  does  verisimilitude  give  way  to  other 
artistic  devices?     Mention  some  of  the  latter. 

83.  How  does  the  character  of  Richard  exhibit  the  frequent 
tendency  among  the  malformed  of  avenging  themselves  upon 
nature?     Has  Shakespeare  elsewhere  employed  this  motif? 

84.  Mention  some  of  the  reasons  why  this  play  has  been  so 
popular  in  stage  representation.  Is  more  recent  taste  turning 
away  from  it  and  from  plays  of  its  type? 


206 


I 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA-LOS  ANGELES 


L  009  978  284  9 


